For Poetry Month 2014,
I’m searching for metaphors and similes.
Join me! Here’s a bit more on this month’s project.
As kids, my sister and I helped whitewash the trunks of the walnut trees on our farm to protect them from sunburn.
Whoever thought that trees could get sunburn?
At the end of the day, it was eerie to look back on row after row of white tree trunks.
Here’s the metaphor in a part of a poem I’m writing:
I swig a drink from my canteen
look back upon this grove of trees
their leafy fingers wave to me
a ghostly wave
from ghostly trees…