The neighbor's new fence. |
The neighbors put up a new fence yesterday. Why they did this is anyone’s guess, and since I qualify I will speculate, I’ll take a guess, I’ll have my say concerning pine-wood monuments half-way to the sky. This is hyperbole, of course, exaggeration at its worse, but as fences go, it is higher than most, and compared to all others, an aberration. As I sit on the back porch and look outside, I can see the new fence clearly this August morning. Let me reveal my speculation with no further ado. They built the new fence for the birds--what else could it be? Unlike all those chain-link fences one can see through, this fence is solid, gap-free and as I said, high. But those wee birds, uncaring as birds are, no doubt wrens in this case if I am any judge of birds, fly a direct and quick course from forsythia without any set agenda of malice, ill-will or grudge. How patient they sit there! Balanced against any gust of draft relinquished to lever, the wrens do not budge. There is no need for me to think otherwise; I trust I am correct just as the wrens trust they can alight on curved edges of fence top, balanced like equations waiting for me to break stale bread into bits despite its tendency to ball like dough on most occasions. 24 Lines (Rhythm: 13) Writer’s Cramp August 21, 2013 |