Fence

The Daily Post prompt is: fence

At the edge of the field,

a stout fence holds back

the woods full of whispers

and wild meadow grass,

where roses climb rampant

full of flowers and thorns,

amid the trickle of water

and rustle of birds.

It holds back the life

that’s lived in the shade

and the dreams that would fly

over poppy and corn.

It bars the bright sky

with its straight black posts,

where my face presses close

to peer between.

Sky full of promise,

free and high,

I reach out my hand

to the songbirds that fly.

I hold up my face

to catch the last light,

but the sun streams away

to the depths of the night.