“Something
there is that doesn’t love a wall. . .”
- Robert Frost "Mending Wall"
Yes,
I’ve seen your stone wall before
but
reclusive neighbors don’t still stoop
to
heave the heavy rocks back into place
then
regress to silence for another year.
Patiently
lying askew in the grass
the
stones gather velvet green moss,
lemon
yellow lichen, nibbled acorns,
and
moist black compost in every hollow.
They
host sunset-red spotted efts,
translucent
grey-gilled mushrooms,
shiny
brown sow bugs and pink worms,
and
comical chipmunks popping out and in.
Sparrows
stop by to hop and forage,
ants
race away unwilling to be lunch,
and fireflies
doze in warm speckles of sun
before
carrying its glow into the night.
You
gave your neighbor words:
“Good fences make good neighbors”
seems
to me, my solemn friend,
that
bad fences made better neighbors.
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