Beyond The Fence
Strange how this
barrier affects me,
This line of cross-beamed
posts.
How familiar I am
this side of the fence,
How alien the other
side seems.
For this is mine,
and that is theirs:
I stand in my own
ground, looking out.
Within this boundary
I feel certain,
But the other side
summons up doubt.
Kestrels and
buzzards fly on regardless,
Using the sky’s
common air-space,
Ignoring the obvious
separation,
Which I still perceive
in this place.
The wildness of the
country,
With its plants and
creatures laid hidden,
Seems to beckon me
forward,
But my mind yet says
it’s forbidden.
It seems easy for
the eye to wander,
Across fields of
grass and thick clover,
But far too great an
endeavour,
To actually get up,
and climb over.
What fear keeps holding
me back?
There is no-one
there that I can see:
I guess it’s the
usual paranoia -
Is there someone out
there, spying on me?
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