Wired Barbs

 

A farmer exhales

warmed, wintry breath –

sights his twisted defence

 

Snowy River drifts

drift in against single-

strand wire, letting it in

 

Sunlight melts frost

on topmost wires

taut once, now – awry

 

Like the farmer’s frame

once tight, so straight,

today – it is maligned

 

Rusty, frosty memories

surface with pain –

undone by morning sun

 

Crops, stock – surrounded;

fenced by furnace-forged steel

now – long gone cold

 

Too old to play God

with beast, or crop

Too young to give in.