The Fenceline

It is the winters I still remember,
a childhood spent in north country,
as old age dampens my memory,
burning coals cooling to ash.
The snows were what stand out,
Chill lingering in my bones,
Mind drifting to staring out,
the white blankets below my window.
What stood out to me each season,
The long fence line trailing out,
Past the back yard to pasture,
Barb wire on pine posts.
Frosted and iced on each strand,
The spines icicles with teeth,
Path into the nothingness,
Lone remnants standing watch.
I see that line leading out,
Pathfinder, trailblazer to nowhere,
And I long to follow it,
Into the abyss of night.
70 years past my boyhood,
It still draws me to this day,
A thousand miles away now,
My imagination draws the way.
I long to be a child again,
To put on my coat, hat and mitts,
Snowshoes tethered to my feet,
And walk into the snowfields,
Following the fence to whence it came.
To walk and walk in the cold,
Footprints receding into the snow,
And I am the guide, the ranger,
Spiritual scout of my soul,
And I will become the blizzard,
Snowflakes reverberating in my bones,
I am the North Wind,
Eternal in its wake,
Let me live in the darkness,
Winter’s twilight in the frost.