Fence Line

The post won't sit — I shim it east, it leans I pull it out and dig the hole again The clay's half-froze and packed with gravel seams Of every hole I've dug before and then Reset. The level says it's plumb, I brace The gravel in and tamp it with the bar Stay there — I'm talking to the post, not grace Not prayer, just a man who's come this far Will you hold? Will you hold when the wire pulls? Will you hold? Or give me something else to fix come April I string the wire from the corner post Pull it tight and cut it two foot long Too short — I strip it back, another lost Half-foot of wire in every length gone wrong The fencing pliers lever, twist, and crimp My knuckles white against the galvanized It wants to coil — I will not let it limp Between the posts all belly-down and wide Will you hold? Will you hold when the ground heaves up? Will you hold? Or was this morning just a longer bluff Every ten foot there's a staple and a prayer — not a prayer, a prediction, more like hope That the tension and the post and the cold air Will agree on what it means to hold a slope Will you hold? Will you hold through the January ice? Will you hold? I'm asking you — I've done this twice I lean against the last post, check the line The wire hums a note I didn't put there Close enough