Rightnow Write Poetry On Regular White Paper

I miss the regular white paper
of days in the sunlight;
golden reflections on the page
like lacy trim hidden in the closet.
My fingers would skate along
the unforgotten tree's peel:
regular white paper.
I miss its smell of old libraries
and cotton.
I miss the feel of controlled sand
and smooth paper body.
Regular white paper
is the runaway wasted plaything
of freckled imagination.
Read what's possible.
Rest wishes plainly,
and rightnow write poetry
on regular white paper.