A rusty fence stands beaten back, stretching into the breakers
 

The waves run high and rough here.
 

Surfers idolize the place.
 

Officials stand obdurate:  the fence
 

Might keep those people out.
 

As if a line into the sea is not a beacon
 

Of how much farther one must struggle
 

To reach the promise of life in a promised land.
 

It is a dangerous fence, jagged, torn,
 

Bent, curling in upon itself.
 

Immigrants gawk at its clear signal.
 

Locals decry its ugliness.
 

Is the nation's border safer from danger.

Only the sea’s serenity is wounded,
 

Shafted by mankind’s hubris, those futile attempts
 

To split the very sea into ours and theirs.
 

Eileen Clemens Granfors, copyright, 2008

 

 

Scroll way down the attached web site for better pictures of the fence.