intruders

her fence, broken on the east
side, the wire
torn from the post,
the grass trampled,
foot prints of winter
deer that passed
through,
the heads of flowers
eaten, the tops
of shrubs shredded,
they find a way in, she thinks,
while pounding a nail
held tightly in her
hand. these intruders,
like the men I don't love,
they find a way in.