I am honored to call the poetess who wrote this poem my dear friend.  She is wonderfully talented and gifted at being able to put into words what so many women feel after they have lost their angels.

The Fence
by Gwen Flowers

I am like a horse with his head through a fence,
trying to reach a pink clover that is just beyond his reach.
The grass i stand in is withered and course,
The fence presses against my insistent pushing.
Beyond, the hills are green, the sky is open.
I see no other horses....
It seems that my field is full of cattle and sheep. 
They are content to chew the brittle bitter harvest of this field,
But I am reaching, stretching,
And  I
   still
       can't
                  reach
                                   the
                                              pink clover.
 
 

Gwen Flowers