fence post friends

the most meaningful conversations I have been a part of took place with yard implements in hand.
blowers are cut off, rakes are leaned up to rest on the fence, gloves are shoved in pockets.

roses are looking good, bulbs are coming in, have you dropped any lime yet?
things have been rough at the shop, union is threatening another walkout, my boy joined football.

there are no pretensions at the fence post, no airs, no status, no artificial pretense.
only genuine fellowship. rarely found, always appreciated, often overlooked.

the rails may need some paint, the gate has sad, sad sag.
but the fence needs nothing more than two weekday warriors to lean, listen, and learn.