be careful 
when you
invite new 
metaphors
into your
fresh built 
box of a poem.

a small 
house is
perfect
or a poet
that has 
few silver 
words left  
in their 
pocket. 

lower case
               is  cheaper
                            than uppercase.

as you nail
penny-nails
with your
wobbling 
flat head
hammer;
simpleness
into
all your
lines.

be careful 
metaphors
can act 
like 
miniature
tigers.

some 
of the  
metaphors
want to start
problems 
to scratch  
at your
floorboard
& swing from
your curtains 
with their 
sharp
retractable claws
& climb 
on  your
window panes
& leave 
their nose-prints
impressed
on each 
window
in each 
of your 
stanzas.
 
take the
broom
& chase
the  troublesome 
ones out 
past the door jams
of your poem.

keep the 
few
metaphors
that  are
asleep
at the 
hearth.


the similes 
you scattered
as a homecoming
blessing 
turn into
see-through
butterflies
& flap
their wings
in symmetry 
of beats
up the
wainscot

the sparrow
of your 
voice
awakes on 
the swinging 
perch of 
your small simple
birdcage
          & begins
                     to chirp
& the 
symbols
hiding in 
the nooks 
& crannies
come to your
table to steal
crumbs & slices
of green cheese
that you
 have sliced
quietly
from
the moonrise
slowly
forming
like onion skin
in the 
lightbulb
you keep
dutifully hidden
in your head.

symbols squeak
and the metaphors
dream
of goldfish
swimming
in the periods
the little bowls
you
place
in kindness
at the  ends
of your stanzas.