| A Cedar Fence Pauline Hodgetts |
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I stand, alone. Unguarded from the bitter winds, The shifting snow, And roaring floods. Arms twisted in knotted lines, Back bent with age Cawed sturdy wood, Smoothed by time. Once a tall, young sapling; Then cut down, In haste. Now rejected, lonely, a shadow on the snow. Oh, if I could talk - Tales of pioneers Quick, terrorized wars The contrasting peacefulness. Yet I could not talk For I stand alone; - A cedar rail fence. |