Living On The Edge

Living On The Edge

Our house is at the edge of town. We’re bounded on the north
By the remnant of a barbed-wire fence where deer come back and forth
And which so little binds the cows Deryl says they’re honor bound.
But it’s somehow an osmotic fence which only works one way,
For when a cow gets over it she’s over it to stay.
She never can get back again and tramples up the ground,
And lettuce, squash, and broccoli while milling all around.
We could put up a better fence to keep the country out,
But we’d prefer some kind of fence to keep the town within,
For cows and deer and trampled squash are little price to pay
To live along the edge of town and feel the country way.