Wired Barbs
A farmer exhales
warmed, wintry breath –
sights his twisted defence
Snowy River drifts
drift in against single-
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.
I enjoyed reading this poem.
Hi Louise, thank you – and my apologies for this late reply. I didn’t notice your comment until just now. It was a bit of a deep and meaningful one loosely based on self. Please keep sending your poems in. There’s a pretty good crew of poets posting to this site. It’s great reading all these other poets posts.