Fingers on a wire

Lance Sheridon, is another poet I admire on WordPress. You may want to check him out. This poem I find particularly emotive. It highlights the fierce barrier between the hungry and the fed.

Lance Sheridan

Dawn comes, the land slowly awakes-
it thirsts for rain
it thirsts for dew
soon, cattle will come to graze. …
the barn door saunters.

Break from the wood, a coyote-
grayish brown,
muzzle and paw
silent, breathing past the
dog rose hedge.

Loitering wind, flickering dust ’round
the barbed wire fence-
sewn with the farmer’s hand,
pulsing, waiting
for the predator flesh.

Filled with temptation, filled with
cries- no longer a
cunning beast, the wire tears. …
downtrodden grass and fear.

Hounds and farmer leaping
bounds. …rifle shots
into the dog rose hedge;
then flickering light and circling
cloud- a deluge besieged.

Puffs of breath and wounded
skin- the canid tears
through the rifled hedge;
Farmer, why mute?
Ah, so the quiet hounds.

Copyright © 04/04/2016 lance sheridan®


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