December's a 38 ton articulated truck
full and powering down from way up north,
snow almost as solid as ice in its wheel-arches
and the sky it hurtles under is cast-iron cold
Bob, in general I agree that the metaphor is too long, extended too far.
Please consider having the truck go somewhere - into January of course,
which in most northern climes is worse than December.
Thanks.
Gary
Writer's Hood, the best poetry on the web, at http://www.writershood.com/
Poets for Peace.... ˇPoemas sí, balas no!
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