fences   Do I know where my fences are? How about the fences that aren't mine? Do I know where the wires are loose and the barbs are blunt and the gates are left swinging open? And do I know where the fences are tight, high, camouflaged, booby trapped, electrified, fatal? How do I patrol my own land, how do I venture forth?   © Michael Fleming Berkeley, California March, 1990   top of page  other shorter poems  longer poems  sonnets               e-mail to Mike  Fox Paws home page