Metaphor for 2/23/2013

I passed the cemetery just a few blocks from home and saw the smoke, the fire burning–a first time in five years of passing by with a smell that carried all the way to my door and inside reminding me of the smell of my grandmother’s kitchen from plucking chickens and setting fire to the small residuals from feathers, while releasing them from the body. Two paths of aromas:  one leads to where we all leave this world and the other to one who has already gone. ©Roseroberta

Advertisements

I'm interested in hearing people's ideas about metaphors and to post other people's metaphors as well as my own!

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s