I stand by the gate and yearn.
I did not build the fence.
It serves a purpose, I suppose.
I did not build the gate.
There was no intent to close
the being standing here inside.
I stand by the gate and yearn,
by the gate which keeps you away.
It has no lock.
You could lift the latch.
But, you simply wave and walk by.
I stand by the gate and yearn.
For what, I no longer know.
It was not always so.
There was a time
when you would have leapt over
the fence, the gate, any enclosure.
Now, you walk by and wave.
I remember now. I yearn
for you.
annarino writes 