Fence Stories

Eloise, my mom, milked cows for a round faced dairy farmer named Bob Krump. He was having a bad year. There was a pile of black and white calves freezing near the corner of an unused corral. A few bears had been coming from the gray brush behind the house to eat calves. They had started reaching over the pens and helping themselves to live calves. They had knocked down part of the barbed wire fence in the misty grey brush...

I’m starting with a line,Moving on to another,And here’s a third,Why not a fourth?This poem, or whatever it may be,Really makes no sense,But, really, don’t think me dense,I’m about as dense as a fence.A fence with nails in,What a lovely fence,I think it’s immense,Oh beautiful fence!I wanted to use hence,But I have no reason,I’m thinking of a season...Winter, it is so lovely,I love the cold, The wet, but no wind.Wind is ho...