His eyes peered down the old rusted barbwire fence,
His look became longing.
As if in defense, his dry lips parted.
And he began to say,
...
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Kendra, this is beautiful. I love the fence metaphor, a great choice! Wish I would have thought of it! ! ! You carried the extended metaphor the entire length of the poem and never wavered or wondered in another direction. So many poeple start out with a certain metaphor like a fence, then next thing you know they have switched to comparing everything to rain! Truly one of my favorites, and it's going on my fave list for sure. -Robin xoxo
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Kendra, this is beautiful. I love the fence metaphor, a great choice! Wish I would have thought of it! ! ! You carried the extended metaphor the entire length of the poem and never wavered or wondered in another direction. So many poeple start out with a certain metaphor like a fence, then next thing you know they have switched to comparing everything to rain! Truly one of my favorites, and it's going on my fave list for sure. -Robin xoxo