to make good fences often shut out neighbourliness.
Every night the sun descends on the fronts
we have erected, only
for the following day
those same fronts to leave us shut in,
leaving others further
shut out-
until we see what we cannot accept;
a cumulative dishonesty which repeats itself ad nauseam
which then becomes the retreat into escapism.
The ebb and flow of weather fronts
is self balancing,
a cycle in which, dependent on the wind,
rain in one place means sun elsewhere.
In the flow of how we behave
rain from one person means
rain on another, a monoculture!
If I were not so leaky, and full of holes
I would like to be someone's umbrella.
