Yellow scents the page
With many decades of age.
When gingerly pried open
The dry binding creaks.

Inside grows a faint mold
And it spreads in streaks
Across the brittle folds
Within the pages crease.

Cloudy wafts of odor, light
Hang buoyant in the air,
Like so much lost knowledge
Folded within its pages there.

This poem can be read 2-3 ways.  Read the whole poem.  Next read only the ones.  Finally, read only the twos.

1 You are beautiful
       2 inside and out
1 And you were gifted
       2 bone and sinew
1 Muscle and brain
       2 within your mind
1 You can find all
       2 the strength

Even amidst a hard-scrabble unfair life
Joy finds its way into hearts, onto faces
Within the laughter of families, and children.

They are the loved.  

Joy embraces love of others,
It is rocked and cradled and nurtured.  And,
It is reflected in the love of the loved,

And resides with those loved.

There is still time
To have breakfast in bed
after we woke up
There is time to talk
Slowly
Carefully
Picking words which don’t hurt
We can still hold hands
Gaze into each other’s eyes
Be kind
Be nice
We still have time to laugh
Watch each other smiles
And be amazed
Everyday

It is not too late