Cities are full of fences and signs; prohibitions. People strain against the chains – against a chain link fence. They say the pen is mightier than the sword, but spray paint writes bolder than ink. Why is their no way through? Why are you keeping us out? The message is futile, or perhaps just misunderstood. Black and blue scrawl does nothing to bend the chain, could never be enough to break it. In preschool, we chanted the solution: can’t go through it, gotta go over it!
I contemplate climbing the fence to see what’s on the other side, but my footwear choice is less than ideal, so I look for another way.
Can’t go over it, gotta go under it!
I wonder if a rabbit or a kitten could scramble underneath the fence, or what other creatures might make their home in the tall grass behind the fence.
Can’t go under it, gotta go around it!
And sure enough, if I turn back a few steps, a path cuts down steeply to the left, finding its way to the road where the walking is clear.