White Picket Fence

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  • Angst

    White Picket Fence

    The brown leaf
    Trails along the wickets
    Of the white picket fence
    I want to bite the hand that feeds me

    The fence is scraped
    From the constant passing of a child
    Bearing a stick
    Marking the passage of time

    A twitch of tail
    A wicket slipped
    The arrogance
    Of the neighbors cat

    Leap over it
    And go south
    South of the border
    To sunny care free days

    The birds come and go
    It never really was a fence
    A symbol of hubris
    And of foolish wishes

    It keeps me in
    More than it keeps them out
    I've been fed lies
    I want to bite the hand that feeds me

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    SavVySam commented on White Picket Fence

    08-21-2010

    Deeply aware, the thoughts shared in this reflective piece reveal wisdom that can only be earned. Great write!;)

    ginga commented on White Picket Fence

    07-23-2010

    winter, Glad to hear new poetry from you. I am mesmerized with the detail here that encompasses this white picket fence. The matter of fact tone always puts me in awe when you ramble in your mind. You cannot ever write in mediocrity because your mind is so busy. ginga

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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