Metaphor Poetry

Oh Nine

In that moment there was, blended out at the edges, a faded calm,

And we were the sudden building static,

Zipping through silent limbs, through the sweating palms,

Of wakening trees and anxious, shifting onlookers.

We were the desperate, growing buds,

Easing forward, itching forward, rushing forward,

And suddenly bursting out like a flood,

Full of life in the sweet, sparkling air.

We were the honey and the buzzing bee,

And the emblazoned future reached keenly out,

To each of us standing in line, each a dancing ant,

Adorned in black and clinging to a promise, a hope, a dream…

So small and so big,

They called our names one at a time,

And this was only the beginning.