Ink Pens

I remember watching my mother

Practice her handwriting

With one of her "favorite" ink pens.

And I see again the slight

Smile on her face after filling

An entire page with tight,

Perfectly even circles

That looked like a tiny Slinky

Had carefully and intentionally

Rolled itself across each

"College Ruled" line.

And I remember the pride

In her voice as she repeated

Stories of the one-roomed school house

And her favorite teacher.

Her pens are still in my desk drawer.

I can't bring myself to defile them with

My own infantile handwriting.

Naida Lavon

Feb. 16, 2019

Manchester University Poetry class

Assignment at the end of week two:

"Do you have a memory of a specific tool? Perhaps

it is a tool that once belonged to someone else? Is it a

tool you have a particular memory of using?

How has the tools function changed? Do you still use it?

What does it mean to you now?"