Somewhere between the ideal


And real


Lies an interpretation




But no more than a mask





Influenced by externalities


Set up in advance

Spun quite intentionally


Reality found wanting


Facts, whatever that means,


bear a second look

Or third

Since my fact isn’t yours or yours mine


And between the real


And the ideal


There is a lot of empty space

Space, the final frontier

Space, to stretch out

Space, lebensraum

Snap, snap, snap

Spaced, out




David Trudel  ©  2013



1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “Space

  1. You have brought me back to a platonic dialogue here–one I have not thought of in a very, very long time!

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