Bulk Fuel Facility Gate

Bulk Fuel Facility Gate
The gate itself, courtesy of Esmé Ann.

Children are huddled up behind
the faded wooden slats.
Excited, intense,
ladybugs crawling from wood to finger—

They scatter when I lean too close.

It’s an ugly gate
but the ferns touch it tenderly
fireweed and foxglove
reclaim and diffuse

Passion must hide
what intimacy reveals;
splinters stick in my fingers,
the gate is stuck

and heaven, and horses,
and dreams,
all on the other side.

Here is a link to the full-size photo on Google+ by Esmé Ann that this poem is based on. You must be a Google+ member to see; ask in a comment if you’d like an invitation to join.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s