Two Miles To Metaphor

Why when a pen doesn’t work do we try it on another piece of paper

thinking it’s not the pen that’s out of ink, it’s the paper that’s broken?

We’re broken

thinking we need another to put us back together

still, sometimes

the pen spills its guts on that second sheet

sometimes we need another to reach us

to give us a hand

like the moon gives the sun land

to be seen through the trees at midnight

the bodies of trees

give these inky shadow puppets space to breathe

to shape and air our words

to define us by their abstract meanings

defining our dreams

turned upside down like a Rorschach set of stars

seen eyes closed

dreaming of dream catchers in cars

knowing the one place you don’t need to be catching zzzzzs

is driving

I see the metaphor

but the reality is

you really should be watching the road.


2 thoughts on “Two Miles To Metaphor

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