Today's poem is by Terese Svoboda
Your fence meets your fence,
the sawtooth borders contiguous.
You can't even see it all.
Shade moves its bars like latitudes
across the no-tree, no-cow plain.
Land is plain, unwrit and lasting.
You long to envelop the map
I have seen you look down and
look up like that, in such lust.
Your binoculars pick out antelope
that move no closer than x power,
that canter back as if there's a line.
Like the concentrics of the eagle
a thermal over. Like water after a stone.
Copyright © 2002 Terese Svoboda All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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