Bennett’s Fence
over time, the fence had grown
in height and width,
in depth and strength
the old, thin wooden planks,
long gone–now, tungsten steel,
which could withstand
anything short of tank fire
the house was largely unchanged,
which is odd–why so
much emphasis on keeping things
out, when the inside was steadily
succumbing to the slow march of entropy,
the unforgiving whims of sun and
wind and rain
the aerial view revealed the feint–
there is no such thing as “safe”,
“secure”
the attack can simply come
from a new angle
ironic, no?
the fence began as a response–
the low, white picket fence of childhood–
now replaced with ugly,
indifferent prison walls
yet the vulnerability
remains unchanged and
cannot be eliminated
as realization hits,
his therapist says,
“so why not just tear it down?”
4 thoughts on "Bennett’s Fence"
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Wonderfully insightful, Laura.
Thank god for that therapist.
Thank you so much, Kevin.
Excellent metaphor, and great ending!
Thank you so much, E. E.