My life in one tattered book — capitol dome cover,

inside photos of monuments, pandas, cherry trees.

 

Edges frayed, color faded, bent tabs for every letter

careful entries— name, address, home phone, no cells.

 

Here friends, at every age and stage — childhood, college,

marriage, business, insurance, schools, charities, church.

 

Disturbed by black lines, red strike-throughs, x’s, check marks,

stars, dates, card codes. Entire double pages slashed.

 

A book of loss, a record of life. Colleagues deceased,

moved, vanished, gone, ignored, removed for perceived slight.

 

I am here with my old tome.

 

A few familiar names remain.

 

I am still here.

Here.