I miss filling my fountain pen,
The smooth slide of inked nib
Over paper, something more
Satisfying than...
Clicking, clacking keys,
So impersonal,
When I have known
Writing as a hands on
Experience in earlier years.
Like the glide of pencil
Lead, not really lead, but,
It's what we said, upon
The lined paper,
Becoming poetry.
Donovan Baldwin