A poem originating from my daybook:
I am a drone
In this life
looking down
from a 1000’ up,
sending a
future feed
home
for my some other me
to see.
And what does
that me
see and feel
as we fly,
Soft aloft
Over such sills as these?
Just know
that in
my next life
infinity
will be my home.
Here is a discussion via GoogleNotebook’s AI generate podcast:
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We had a neighbor, who has since moved, who did aerial drone photography as his hobby and all spring, summer, fall, we could hear the mosquito-like squawking of his drone way up in the clouds. His images posted on social media were lovely and interesting, but the drone sound was extremely annoying.
Thus, a poem reaction, not directly related to your own poem of metaphor other than on a loose memory tangent:
An aerial ear assault
but who’s fault is that?
Neither bird nor bat
nor any other animal
makes a constant sound
quite like that of drone;
the constant buzzing
of a tiny engine over home
Kevin
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Further
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMypJk_17eY
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My other candidate for annoyance hums is a robovac. Context, pretext, subtext, and text.