Drought Options

[JaxMyth]

..


I

We sink the corner posts first, as each defines a neighbour.
It is here where the bottom six inches are the most important.
It is here where the strength is muscled into the fence.

The heart of a fence lies in its foot.
I tamp until the bar sings of possession,
the bar bounces and writhes.

We snug the stays and tighten the wire,
each barbed note is tensioned into voice
the division sings a warning.


II

The fence cannot hold back the drought.
The sky aches blue and the sun eats green;
the earth coughs dust as rich as blood.

My bones hunker down beside the rock.
Eagles hang; wings wound into the wire,
heads nailed down by the sun.

Ribs rack a heaving fleece.
I watch my image fade
from the eye of a lamb.

[Guest_kerri_*]

You've got a great poem going on here, Jax.

I like the steady, measured building of the fence
that combines the physical and psychological
necessity of fences.

In the first stanza, I would leave out the "it is where"
and tighten the lines:

We sink the corner posts first,
each defines a neighbor.
The bottom six inches are the most important,
where strength is muscled into the fence.


I like the second stanza:

"The heart of a fence lies in its foot.
I tamp until the bar sings of possession,
the bar bounces and writhes."

I love that heart of a fence lies in its foot
as it made me think of the strength of a fence
or a heart and how strongly it is footed.

This stanza as metaphor is great:

"We snug the stays and tighten the wire,
each barbed note is tensioned into voice
the division sings a warning."

Oh, those times in life when we need
to tighten the wire, and those divisions
that sing or sign a warning.

It does take us a while to hear them, doesn't it.

In this line, I thought there could be another image
that might fit bettter than hunker down...but that is just me.

"My bones hunker down beside the rock."

There are some lines I would tighten.
Ok, just some ideas on the way I would play
with your poem. As always take or leave what works for you or does not.



We sink the corner posts first,
each defines a neighbor.
The bottom six inches are the most important,
where strength is muscled into the fence.

The heart of a fence lies in its foot.
I tamp until the bar sings of possession,
the bar bounces and writhes.

We snug stays and tighten wire,
each barbed note is tensioned into voice,
the division sings a warning.

The fence I built cannot hold back drought,
the sky aches blue and sun eats green;
the earth coughs dust thick as blood.

My bones lie down beside a rock,
watch eagles hang, wings wind into wire.
heads are nailed down by the sun.

I watch my image fade
in the eye of of lamb.


Just some quick thougths.

Take or leave what works for you.

take care, kerri