There they stand
all bunched together
in a black coffee mug.
Most of them are the standard yellow,
but, one is red,
three are pale blue with yellow bunnies, and
two are green with pink hearts.
All have a proud pink nub on the top.
They gather stoically -
their potential
hidden in their innards,
waiting to be pointed towards
a thought.
They sit,
nonchalantly mute,
until grasped by
fingers with white tipped nails,
or
fingers with dirt-caked
knuckles.
It is amazing to watch
when
a pencil is
deliberately
picked up and aimed.
Somehow, without a cord,
or a memory card,
or one little megabyte,
magic begins
as pencil
meets
paper.
Debra Kemper
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/arrows-of-thought/
