A poem by Isabelle Sorrells

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My feet and the ground beneath

Are nothing but black,

All possible hazards lost to the eye.

Lantern swinging in hand,

The light remains exstinguished.

What I’m looking at has a million lights of its own.

Galaxies stretch before me.

I watch as they dance and grow and shoot away in awe.

I am walking blind

So that I can see it all.

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