On Our Side of the Fence
On our side of the fence,
We have no worries.
The elderly Pin Oaks
Sprawl their limbs like warm arms,
Making shade and silence.
Their wide berth absorbs the sounds
Of sirens and screams.
And brace us for wind.
We have our wood for winter,
And a garden plot.
On our side of the fence,
We have no worries.
We sip tea by the azaleas
And feed critters seeds.
The ivy is lush, but daffodils
Still find space.
The house is warmed as though
The sun were ours.
Our goods are sorted and stored;
The dishes, washed;
The children, fed;
The pies, baked;
The beds, made.
On our side of the fence,
We have no worries.
No wars,
No refugees,
No homeless.
No storms, floods, or fires.
Our creek is free of oil.
Our birds soar.
Our bounty is pure.
On our side of the fence.
We have no worries.
We have no fears.
We have no threats.
We have no eyes.
We have no eyes.
Copyright © 2018/01/20 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com
Image: digital art “Peace vs Chaos” ©Martha Harris See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog