The border says stop to the wind, but the wind speaks another language, and keeps going.”
The border is that favourite place to lay eggs, denying all knowledge of the nicely built, shining caravans. Anytime there is tall grass and a border to the road, or to the edge of the paddock fence, we just know we have to walk it every day. It must come from that original junglefowl, which liked to live at the edge of the jungle and cross the border to forage every day.
Ain’t no way to beat 5-6million years of history 😊
--from "The Border: A Double Sonnet" by Alberto Ríos