2011 Random Poetry Contest
At the Boundary
by Janet Sunderland
An ancient barn, ancient against
a 21st century housing development,
sits at the juncture of two paths
beyond the fence line.
Beside the barn, a windmill,
broken for decades, no longer
useful to water the soil at its base
or anywhere else, for that matter.
What capricious twist of fate
set these new houses, shiny
siding gleaming in acrylic pastels,
beside a faded barn?
I imagine summertime boys, slipping
beyond watchful parents boundaries
to enter the faith of rusty nails
and broken padlocks.
Boys to rescue the relics of mystery,
water the soil from the fountain
of their urine, and offer redemption
to an old barn beyond the fence line.
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