thanksgiving: vicarious

sharp scent
like pencil shavings
and childhood
slick plasticked cover sliding
under fingertips until
creamy pages crease
at a touch and bend
spilling inky thoughts into my mind
dreams of other worlds
other lives
chasing each other in mad riot
as i gulp thirstily
never quenching or filling
enough
for there is always another
and i reach again
raise this tree reborn and sniff
deep
of sharp scent
like pencil shavings
and happiness