Cattle Guard

Nathan Fako


Under a cattle guard,

perceived most

is the passing roar of automobiles.


They thunder, wheeling

into their futures, righter,

more luscious, than present.


From down here

the only thing to really

see, is a light-beam


and often I feel I am trapped

beneath these wide rusted bars of metal

which even animals must avoid.


There will be no

sparkled, pernicious future.

Beautiful, distracting, insidious.


All that is truly mine,

true to consider,

are these little panes of yellow light.