Ode to Chris,

The heart of a Ceder post will last,its skin will free the fence, before the nails rust.

I wonder if what I see feels the force of my thoughts?
I wonder if what I taste knows the joy of its gift?
I wonder if the rock's white puffs of powder are...
Happy or sad exclamations to the iron bar,
I lift and drive now
Knee deep.
Shoulder aches,
Brow drips,
But the wood handles give smooth life through the dead leather grasping my fingers,
Metal pinching the bars cracked remnants, roots, life's soil,
And the ceder post drops snug solid,
The iron tamps remnants,
The rocks powder a necklace,
A mans necklace....

Reviews

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Wonderful imagery in this one. I could feel, see, taste and smell everything that you described so aptly. I have dug many a hole for fencing in my day (usually with my grandfather), and this describes the feeling so well. Emotional, metaphorical...nicely done.

[icelandicblue]

There is much satisfaction to create with our own hands. It reminds us of our place on this earth in this ready made world. Your imagery is wonderfully crafted. If your fence is crafted as well it should last a long time.

[A.E. Surdam]

Great imagery. Packed full of emotion. Great write!

[Tree]

There is enlightenment and spiritual cleansing working the earth. Building something under the sun. This resonated with me. Nice work, Lee.

[Emily B]

this is maybe my favorite of all your words

[Steven]

Fantastic. Way to give life.