Defenses
by Michael R. Burch
Beyond the silhouettes of trees
stark, naked and defenseless
there stand long rows of sentinels:
these pert white picket fences.
Now whom they guard and how they guard,
the good Lord only knows;
but savages would have to laugh
observing the tidy rows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyed reading. Last two lines in paricular. Quite humourous. Thanks