Barbed Guardian

Each day I walk along this aging guardian
And feel its unrelenting stress and strain
As its voice creaks and moans
It stands tall against the greener pastures on the other side
And yet weighs upon my mind.

Braced sternly against the neighboring unknown
Or perhaps it’s fear… or even loneliness… itself that it protects
Which lives on this familiar side.

This heavy and humid Kansas afternoon
Reveals aged sweat and blood shed over similar days
Dried bravely with the fleeting passage of time.

Who has borne witness to the wars it’s fought?
Unseen foes twist and mangle in the dark of night
Leaving behind tattered remnants to mend
And a rattled voice lingering in the light of day.

I have no idea who first strung it
Barbed wire wrapped devilishly around green timbers
Prepared at once for battles that may one day come
A stiletto fortress for those living in its hushed shadow.

Its true tale is only known to its closest comrade
The old walnut tree, itself blackened and scarred
Sharing leather-cloaked hands that planted both seed and timber
Surviving time together to stand guard as one.

I’m not even sure what requires protecting
This dusty land boasts no gold today
Perhaps it’s the amber waves that will one day come
That entice thieves in the night to weaken its defenses.

Today it proudly shows its age with unnerving confidence
Wires bent, tangled, and dangling
Where weathered timbers are now splintered by time
The steel moat it creates around this land
Reveals its pride to friend and foe
While requiring secret care from steady hands.

For now, I patch it up yet another day
Setting its aging bones straight and true
For soon, the night will wake once again
Convincing a tired sun to hide its glow
And put this armored sentry to the test
To fend off its shadowed familiar foe

Standing firm for those that can’t
To protect against the world outside.