Where the Posts Were

I slowed down without deciding to.

The hedge was there already—thick, green,

grown in like it had always been—

and the yard just open behind it,

running into the neighbor's

the way water runs.

I sat with the engine on

looking for where the fence used to be.

You can still see it in the dirt:

a strip packed harder than the rest,

holding the outline

of posts that aren't there.

The new owners probably said: why is this here.

Pulled it. Didn't think twice.

I put the car back in drive.

The property line like a missing tooth—

you find it with your tongue

before you remember

what's gone.