Borderline

One lonely fence split when
the old oak tree devised
a plan to unite our lands
by growing on such soil.

We didn’t cross the line.

Sometimes I wonder how
that swing got there but
you didn’t for you were just
happy to push me high into the sky.

We didn’t cross the line.

Collecting acorns in the
Autumn, making snow
angels in the winter and eating
ice cream in the summer.

We didn’t cross the line

But spring was my favourite
because you used to pick me
flowers and crown me with daisy
chains calling me your queen.

We didn’t cross the line.

The roots of the tree grew
on both sides of the fence
and we’d climb the branches
to meet in the middle.

We didn’t cross the line.

Each other was not the enemy
I’d reassure myself when parting as
we held hands through the barb
wire and you kissed me goodbye.

We didn’t cross the line.
Yet we were always borderline.

By © Rhiannon B.