Benjamin Karren
We Don't Speak Here
Rambling down a dirt road on an autumn morning,
dead maple leaves mutter across the potholes
the sweet earthly smell of venison hangs in the air.
I admire the synergy of foliage and rusted barbwire,
moldering POSTED signs sprinkled on arbitrary trees,
a subtle nudge that we keep to ourselves out here
shooing me back into the forest toward home
until I arrive at a stonewall swallowed by pine needles
reminding me that my father once javelined a crowbar
back into my neighbor's yard during a land dispute.
A stonewall erected from a concession handshake,
forever disconnecting us and dividing our lands.
Who this wall once kept out I do not know,
only this bristling silence, I have come to know well.
Bio
Benjamin Karren is a native Vermonter currently residing in Arizona. He is an emerging poet with works recently appearing in Northern New England Review, Wild Greens Magazine, and WestWard Quarterly. Benjamin enjoys exploring a variety of topics including rural life, the divine, and human psychology in his writing.