yes

the lines are bold.
they cross the page.
I am not old,
nor yet a sage.

the same page.
creased, faded
worn with age.
(never graded)

stories wended,
looking through,
lives were blended,
never an "adieu"

so much we grew
and thick and thin
faithful, true.
to where we begin.

our spirits akin,
a backwards look
through thick, thin
i love our book.


Poetry by Yerst Ruely
Picture by Samba D. Elz
(Sorry - I couldn't resist!)