Jason Boitnott
A Barbed-wire Fence in Late Winter
The barbs sheathed in ice
can't prick warm our numb
interest or our cold overreach.
And the plucked strings, still
shivering with winter's weight,
thrum dully and out of tune.
But if our song huddled inside
can remember the melody, in time
those vibrations will carry music
all down the line, all the way
to the end post, tuned to spring.
Bio
Jason Boitnott is a lifelong rural Nebraskan, family man, twenty-eight-year educator (high school counselor), and livestock farmer. His poems can be found in recent or upcoming issues of Comstock Review, The Midwest Review, Last Leaves Magazine, The Closed Eye Open, Wingless Dreamer, and Nebraska Poetry Society's Poetry Rabble.