Walls And Fences Poem by Grant House

Someone thought there should be a fence where the wall of rocks was
It wasn't much of a wall
Just a row of large rocks between the turn in the road and the arbored front yard of a cabin next to a creek halfway up the canyon
The rocks placed there as a sort of curb to keep cars from going straight at the hairpin curve

The rocks had done their job
No one had ever crashed into them much less barged into the front room
All four wheels spinning
Startled driver
At the wheel
In shock

Moss and lichen cover them in splotches now
They've held fast even in the hardest midwinter rain

There came a day when the advocates for privacy won out
A fence was to be built
Right there
On top of the rocks

The fence maker stood back
Considered the options
Then set out measuring and cutting
The top about level
The bottom
A ragged tribute to the irregular shape of the low wall of rocks below

Rock walls move very slowly over time
So do fences built on top of them
This is the nature of walls and fences
People think they stay put
But they are always on the move

We are moving
Our experiences
Attitudes
Expectations
Hopes and dreams
Move us
Slowly away from
Our irregular past
Nearly straight on top
Weathered
Colorful with age
The gap below widening

Who are we in our lives

Are we the wall or the fence
Or might we be the space that surrounds them
The world outside and the one inside joined by the gap growing in between
Maybe we are the imperceptible movement over the years
The vibrant organic colors of moss and lichen
Or the idea of the wall and fence in the first place
Then
Now
And in the future

Or could it be
That we are just travellers passing by
Making up stories
About the way things are

One thing for sure
We are not the stories we tell
It may turn out after all
That we are the teller
And the one listening
Both of us
Unbound by time
You and me
Right here
Right now
Together