Fence Line Wisdom
by Edward Michael Supranowicz
Ohio Writer
I’m twelve and digging the holes for the wooden fence posts. My step-grandfather is seventy-five and staples the barbed wire to the posts after I place them in the ground. He chews his cud of tobacco, spits out a stream, then says, “You know, the post always wears out before the hole.” I say nothing, and he says, “Think about it.” I pick up a post, slam it down into the dark, moist earth.
Edward Michael Supranowicz is the grandson of Irish and Russian/Ukrainian immigrants. He grew up on a small farm in Appalachia. He has a grad background in painting and printmaking. Some of his artwork has recently or will soon appear in Fish Food, Streetlight, Another Chicago Magazine, The Door Is A Jar, The Phoenix, and The Harvard Advocate. Edward is also a published poet who has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize multiple times.
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