Notebooks
a lot of them
stacked in an open shelf
next to my desk

varietal chronicles
spiral-bound, stitched binding,
composition books,
cheap dollar store pocket,
leather-covered, gifted to me

verse, prose, musings
pontifications and declarations
the older ones
bottom-of-the stack
the better
brittle pages in varying
shades of sepia
all the edges

time has never deterred my
filling of pages
innately fueled desires to
create, release
rejuvenate and reflect

Covers
colorful and worn
marred shields for pages
within
reminding me of times
places, varied
people and moments
profoundly mundane

vintage wire-spirals
youthful anticipation, angst
inscribed
during cross-country
bus rides
pocket notebooks
reflecting the practicality of
a busier, adult life
need for compactable
remembrance, inspiration via
rear pocket
journaled testaments

These notebooks
smell of old cardboard, time
anticipation
in their paper mustiness
incense of creativity
raw and natural
frankincense of hope

most alive in
colorful composition books
taken on camping trips
filled while sitting alone
beside campfires
soaking up transcendental
ambiance

Seemingly benign
inanimate
notebooks absorbed all
words, my ideas and dreams
passions of thought in
vibrant ink, smoke

found only in the wild
where trees
their essences as
fuel for fire
imagination
even the paper come
full circle at my hand

savored now,
here
in this place not of
the woods
but remembered as such

they are flavorful, these
notebooks
times of times long ago, now
sentient in their shelf
smorgasbord of
aromas

tasty enticement
smoldering
senses in concert my
favorite repast has
always been
deliciousness in word
finely aged
smoked notebook

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2020
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

#writersandwriting #oldnotebooks #thoughtsonpaper #poetry #campfires #thewoods