Border of My Own

(This is one of my journal entries from the Mexico trip.  We were asked to write a poem reflecting on the borders in our own lives.)

Border of My Own

I live on the border

Between lib and con

Right and wrong

Black and white

Here and there

I live on the border

Of my county

That sits on the border

Of my state

Looking south on “them”

I live on the border

Of seeping death

Slow poison filling

At one small, hot mistake

And screeching alarm

I live on the Border

Feeling alone

Neutral

Stuck in grey

Nowhere

I live in the border

Watching the river

Make us grow and shrink

Watching the south

Ignore and depend on us

I live on the border

Filled with fear

Sitting on

The wrong side

No help arriving

I am the border

Of my views

Comfortable with

My in between

Un-swayed

The land is the border

Not Too Much Information

But too little

Flows through secretive

Closed gates

The power is fluid

Belonging to no-one

As the borders

Cross over another

And join