or so the poet tells us --
but what about bad fences?
The ones that we erect
in fury, or in scorn;
the ones that separate
(supposedly right from wrong)
so often blur distinctions
once felt clear.
Don't fence me in
the songstress writes
or then the lonely partner pleads,
Don't fence me out, wishing --
like a groundhog or a deer --
there were no fence she could not
leap, or burrow under; nothing
that could keep her from her love.
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