So much depends
On the rusty wheelbarrow blocking the gate
In my chain-link fence, without which both dogs
Would squeeze, as they have done, out to the road,
Alerting so-called “Humane Control” –
Before which, they’d seize their chance to rampage
Round the neighbourhood, possibly killing a cat
(They’ve done it before) in open view
Of the poor, bereaved, justifiably wild
Ex-owner, sworn devotee of the Second
Amendment, along with the rest of the road,
Town, state, and nation, now all intent
On keeping us safe from harm with a wall
Enormously higher than my link fence
Or gate, confirming how much depends
On the rusty wheelbarrow – I don’t know
What colour it once was. Why?