Tuesday, February 28, 2012

A Belated Rejoinder To Neil Young

A Belated Rejoinder To Neil Young

It stands in the southwest corner of the
backyard awash in periwinkle, tucked

between the forsythia and the Rose
of Sharon, a spindly lookout for fat

robins in spring or the jittery hordes
of squirrels that throng in all four seasons, a

burgeoning conclave locked in a constant
state of turf war racing along the length

of entangled inelegant rods or
pausing to survey the terrain from the

vantage of the slanted ovals arranged
at oblique angles, a shaky marriage

of bent, ribbed rebar and diamond plate put
to the torch, shaped and cut, welded, de-burred

to no useful purpose, implacable  
witness to the passage of time measured

in imperceptible oxidation
of alloy, beautiful, consuming rust.

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