White Vinyl Fence
I’m not thinking of Frost when he says from his yard, White vinyl fence:
one, two, three, four, five
sections. I’m hundreds of miles away, near the wife of country youth.
I’ll only see her
and those spaces again in the dreams beyond age. He has me by twenty
years, but I have no more
manly strength to tell him what I think of polyvinyl chloride, white.
His jowls are the face of the dog
I loved, the one who vomited through a snowy night before dying on cold
steel as I watched.
Surfaces shape our cares. How can I explain? standing in a berry patch
by rotting planks the dull shade
of home. He is right to believe the vinyl will last after children come
back to say our gardens
have gone to seed. Does he see in the depthless sum of colors there the
room they’ll plant him in?
Instead of a wife’s voice from a back porch, does he hear the broadcast
dinner tone and think,
while staring at vertical blinds, how desires always end in an argument
The Summer Gazebo Readings are held each Monday evening at 7pm in June, July & August. Each evening 4-5 authors and poets share their work from our Gazebo on Schoolhouse Green in Oceanside, NY. SGR is produced by the Kiwanis Club of Oceanside. Funds raised through sponsorships help send underprivileged kids to Kamp Kiwanis each summer. This summer marks our 7th season!