poetry

Some Distant Space

©2017 E. R. Smith

Close eyes and breathe

deep into distant perception

Retrieve those gifts planted

at conception

Mine the precious from the quarry

Prepare to make doubters worry

Sending your senses as retrievers

Rebuild the self, make believers

No one can read past the cover

as your small world will discover

X-rays can’t tell what’s at your core

All in one’s hands to show what’s in store

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