To see you is to smell 
your wood and lead shavings  
that spill from the gray 
metal pencil sharpener 
nailed to the window sill 
in Mrs. Rote's classroom—
all these decades ago. Today, 
my mechanical one, empty, 

with no shopping in sight, 
I declare I hold you dear.

To see you is to smell 
your wood and lead shavings  
that spill from the gray 
metal pencil sharpener 
nailed to the window sill 
in Mrs. Rote's classroom—
all these decades ago. Today, 
my mechanical one, empty, 

with no shopping in sight, 
I declare I hold you dear.