"Broken Fence Posts"
Greg Budig 2021
Weathered smooth
like driftwood, the
fence posts battled
towards the horizon.
Planted in prairie soil long
before your birth,
long before anything.
Wires rusted into the dirt.
Some are missing.
Burned for heat.
One felt the jolt of
a lightning strike.
It splintered into charcoal
and set the field ablaze.
Some were replaced,
others remained.
A lookout for
red tailed hawks.
A stage for singing
meadowlarks.
A boundary between
left and right.
A line between
east and west.
Prairie became property.
The rolling plains
turned into fields.
Nature halted by
man made limitations.
Broken, divided and claimed.
Fence posts left broken.
No one left to make repairs.
The End
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