Three dogs, frolicking
at the bottom of a steep hill.
Illuminated by a dim street light,
one brown, one black, one white.
A metaphor in the making for sure
of what remains obscure.
- Author: Jerry Reynolds ( Offline)
- Published: July 27th, 2021 09:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet
Comments3
Nothing like a good metaphor Jerry. Nice one
Thanks, S.C.
They do open space.
Understanding dreams not an easy task. But as Sax said, a great metaphor always comes into play. 😉
Thanks, A.P.
Dreams may roam about but are a source of valuable material.
Yes, I agree they are a great source of inspiration.
May that metaphor show complete understanding and togetherness Jerry.
Andy
Thanks, Andy.
I recognized the street, the light, and the time. Left it open-ended on purpose. Good, see Andy.
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