The Metaphor

1
An egg hits the gray-slated linoleum.
Shattering, spreading yolk and yellow
across the kitchen tiles.
Eggshell white chips lay
in pools of clear, slimy, stretchy core.
Moments later, the cardboard carton
slips from fingers,
landing facedown, open.
Eleven breakfast options establish
themselves near the rug
in front of the stove.

2
Blue yarn slowly separates
as a sweater spins through the wash cycle.
The bottom strand pulls away
from the whole, tangled
in the leg of a pair of jeans
that were accidentally tossed in.
When rinse begins, yarn is
entangled in the shirts,
the other sweaters that sit,
enclosed around the drum.

3
Salt water builds with intensity
as the current runs strong
leading from open ocean
to the shimmering golden shore.
The wave runs around creatures,
people, nature; nothing stopping
the chosen, intended path.
Rising, heightening, increasing,
the wave moves up, foaming, teetering.
Left only to crash back into its origins,
it hangs in balance.