View of Taos Mountain
Fences
Where I used to live
I had a wonderful fence
Tall and dark with age
The color of new green
On moss growing near the bottom
That fence probably no longer stands
Has been replaced
By now
It was protection
Privacy
Seclusion
Inside I heard voices
Conversations without faces
Discussions by the neighbors
Much that I loved
Was wrapped within
I wanted to “keep”
To “hold” on…
Now across the mesa
I see no fences only low adobe walls
(Though I know the Indians
Have barbed wire fences
To “keep”
The paleface out
Their horses in
To “keep”
To “hold”)
Landscape seems to go on forever
Without fences
Rolling sage to open sky
No need for fences
Nothing to “keep”
To “hold”
I’m getting good at letting go
annellannell 
This is where Mr. Linky took me first. I’m glad to have visited this vista. Letting go is getting easier, but I still have too much stuff. Not counting all the written words…
I love that you wrote about your lovely vistas … beautiful poem, Annell!
I find that last line to be absolutely perfect… and lets the mind wander to its own conclusion. I love adobe walls – I saw a video of arabian horses running within an adobe horse corral. I had never seen that before.