fences

there is a fence between
him and his dream
and he is the one
who keeps the pickets in good repair.
he sees between the palings
the ocean’s rush, the sky’s blue
life’s mysteries, love’s pain.
it is why he has constructed
it instead of a wall.
because: he is not afraid to see
the dream, he’s just afraid to touch it.
it is a curious thing, this demarcation,
for it both limits and entrances
without risking heart or soul
with tragedy.
he knows it is all replaced by a numbness
a suffocating safety,
a slower death.
but that seems easier to withstand.
and, so, he protects himself from himself,
and failure.
it is sad.
he knows that, too.