Clean blank perfect sheets of paper
Bright colorful patterned paper
I am surrounded by paper
Awash in paper
The feel of it, the smell of it, the crisp snap of it
The exuberant glide of ink across the snowy plain of it.
Such an abundance of delight it is to have paper
Paper enough to write on
To doodle
To rip
To crush and toss and taunt the cats.
When I was a child, it was not common to have paper at home.
I fell in love with paper at school.
So much paper, always available,
To write on, draw on, toss away.
The unexpected riches of paper.
Now I surround myself with paper
And never take it for granted.
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