The Impracticality of Barriers

A strand of rope alongside the bridge.
A separation,
made, we are told, to save us from the water.
Thick. Gnarly. So old lichen and moss grows.
The well-wound threads have melded with age into one.
A separation, we are told, to save us.

But for the curious among us,
it is a different kind of barrier,
a thing keeping you from,
something to overcome.
go over or under or through.

Safe or satisfied?
Always the question.
Always the choice.

About this poem

The picture was taken at the Hebron Wildlife Preserve in Hebron, NY.

Life is a choice between safety and adventure. I lean a little towards the adventure side.

Tom