Property Line

The hammer hits the cedar post

and shakes the coffee in my cup.

He’s marking out what matters most

while I am simply waking up.

An orange string is stretched out tight

across the weeds and through the dirt.

He wants to keep the world out right

so nobody can get hurt.

I watch him through the dusty blind,

a man who knows where he should stand.

I’ve got a different sort of mind

with nothing solid in my hand.