Mending fences and

meditating on

levitating posts –

not enraptured, they are

though no longer

captured by soil,

still clawed too  close

by strangling wire.

Ghostly posts

silvered with age, some

worm-eaten, some split,

all fossilized

by searing summers,

scouring sou'-wests and

vinegar-mists.

...

Far

too many slump

as if shot through head

and having fallen forwards,

sway in sinewy restraint,

yet ever-ambivalent,

ever-fettered, they preach

the weightiest of lessons:

that those who crave freedom

must first extricate.