Kind Of A Metaphor...I Think. Poem by Desiree Whitamore

The ocean is swaying the huge ship ever so slightly.
The passengers look over the edge, leaning their stomachs on the cold metal railing.
The sun is setting on the horizon, and the reflection on the water sends a warm shiver down their bent backs.
The captain’s bell rings they’re ready to dropp anchor.
The sun is almost gone.
As they stand straight again the darkness falls.
The darkness is real and the ship is still swaying.