In Limbo (Free verse) by Christof
We took him on twenty years ago
To build fences and never told him to stop.
The estate would seem lost without the sticky thud
Like distant guns as his hammer stuns
The fenceposts headfirst into the earth.
He works with care but no passion, which is good;
Passion's a luxury, a distraction
Bred in the brain though the sorry bone
Must carry the motion when the brain gets bored.
True, his mind's elsewhere - in the house
He must share with his ex-wife at least until
Some cash is raised -
But his body is making for reparation,
Staking the perpetual division of land
East from west, won from lost,
Man from woman, wound from suture,
Unfulfilled till he divides the day
Past from future.
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