A Log Fence
by Gayle ArrowoodOn my way back from the hard-wear store,
I drag myself past a shell-white house
with a three-high log fence along the sidewalk, inviting weary strangers to pause and ease
their loads. Between the logs and an empty
porch: A peculiar rock garden
where delicate bunches of sunlit daffodils
and hope jut out of the formidable stones.
On my way back from the hard-wear store,
I drag myself past a shell-white house
with a three-high log fence along the sidewalk, inviting weary strangers to pause and ease
their loads. Between the logs and an empty
porch: A peculiar rock garden
where delicate bunches of sunlit daffodils
and hope jut out of the formidable stones.
Posted November 04, 2004
