In seventh grade
I built a world
of lumpy plaster,
chicken wire
and wood.
A class project
shaped by too-big hands
the rough, the smooth
the mountains,
plains and seas.
Poster paint
in broad strokes
sketched out bright divisions
of the realms of life.
A little messy - hanging
in the heaven
of our garage
but with what I knew
and what I had
I did the best I could.
Now on my polished desk
a perfect globe
glossy printed
delineations clean
and sharp, details
precise and pure,
portraying tidily
certain facts
but little of the mess
of seven billion souls.
Reflections of reality
seen only darkly.
With all its misshaped
blemishes, my world,
the world I live in
is more like that one then
than this one now.
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