Fence Lines

The old rusted fence lines look like dredge nets

At the edge of the sea

Yet, this is a sea of green rolling grass blowing lightly in the breeze

But this green is fading fast

Fading away

Are these farm fields of my childhood

The plow points have all been gathered up for scrap

I can’t blame the ones scrapping iron for a little cash

Anything to feed your family during this recession

Sometimes things have to be done

Even gathering up the last markings of my homeland

A way of life that will soon be no more

Builders backed by bankers borrow money

Then buy up

The last of the Florida farms and straight yellow pines

Faster than I want to see

To witness

To behold

Memories of endless summers

Chasing fireflies and eating the hearts of watermelons

Where they lay in the field

These days from my past are now being covered up

By asphalt

By cement

By cars speeding home to do nothing

But sit in front of a box of programmed entertainment

All in the name of progress

This poem is from my book : Petals Falling