Germinate

Poem By Daniel Norton Smith (addendum)

12' x 6', a tiny, unwanted space,
by everyone except me.

Private and untouched, it was
a pebble in a sea of diamonds.

I look back from the land of easy living
and workspaces,
and miss my box-room:
the tiny black space where
something developed.

Growing in the dark like a bean
was a fine biology.
Mushrooms like the dark,
as do the tastiest morsels.

It was the same at work:
the desk nobody wanted.
'Excuse me, I've got to
fit a smoke alarm.'

Phototropic, growing towards
the light, turning carbon into oxygen.

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