Lines That Divide

Plastic bags caught in steel teeth,

tangled like restless fingers play.

The chain-link fence, a brittle sheath

that keeps the wild world away.

I ran my hand along the wire,

the cold bite biting back at skin.

A restless buzz beneath the wire,

a border thin and tough to win.

Kids cluster just beyond the mesh,

their laughter folded, sharp and loud.

But the fence whispers, cold and fresh,

lines drawn harsh against the crowd.

Plastic snaps, the wind replies,

snaring bits of distant lives.

Between the slashes of the ties,

quiet borders hold their knives.