Perimeter

I saw a silver sedan on the bypass

and took the long way through the yards.

The gravel here is mostly broken glass,

and the sky is coming down in shards.

A stray was squeezing through a jagged tear

where the mesh was bent back like a rib.

It left behind a tuft of matted hair,

caught on a wire sharp enough to fib

about security. The rusted barbs

hold that gray scrap like a trophy in the wind.

It’s a warning to the ones who try too hard

to keep the world from getting pinned.