a rusty strand of barbwire [poem]

a rusty strand of barbwire
is all that’s holding two old fence posts up
the posts are black with exposure to the sun and elements
not grey but black, as if the sun has cooked them down to charcoal
and they long since rotted away where they were buried in the ground
like teeth rotting away in some fool’s head
they dangle from the reddish brown rusty wire
the fencing staples
still doing their job
all these many years
later

who put that fence here
and why?
“this side is mine!”
is the clear message
but there’s nothing
there
no ranch
no farm
no oil well
no abandoned building
no deserted road
there’s nothing
no-thing
on the other side of the fence
but somebody
once upon a time
thought it important
to separate “mine!” from “theirs”

 today the fence
is so impotent
that you can step over it
without difficulty
or pass easily
beneath the 
rusty barbwire
if you’re an animal
or insect
and this desert is
your home

 whoever
put up the fence
forgot about it
eons ago
at least
as far back
as the last century
and there’s
nobody there
to stop you
from ignoring it
nobody 
to say
“this is mine!”

  it never was yours
and it never was ours
the earth belongs to itself
and we’re just along
for the ride

©  Buzz Dixon