Metaphors for a Rollercoaster

A signature scrawled on a notary.  Steely intestines.  My attempts to stop nail-biting.  An extension cord stowed in haste.  Ogres’ ivy.  A doomed defendant’s courtroom doodles.  The flight path of a wooed bird.  Piles of shiny ribbons yanked from presents.  The umbilical cord of a record-breaking baby.  The trail of a wandering prayer.  Life, as it appeared after my parents’ divorce. The three minutes I lost in the woods to forfeit my first cross-country win.  How I didn’t expect grief to be.  A map to everywhere and nowhere.  Honeybees’ failed return to their hives in 2015.  As if time began stretching behind the Olympic rings.  In the Kentucky foothills:  My father’s sightline watching autumn’s downpour of shooting stars.  God, maybe.  A Boston city-planner’s blueprints.  My relationship with hunger.  A tumble-weed, paused.  You.  Me.  Her.  The denial we harbor.