36

less than 1 minute read

Breaks of silence hold the room
Muffling the cranking inside their heads
Until courage rises and breath
Solidifies history, hopes, and Being
Old oak shelters from the
Glory of brilliant lights above
But holds tight the warmth they share
From questions answered, and bodies laid bare.

A poem I wrote back in 2018. I don’t remember why it’s titled 36. It was in a collection of birthday poems and the person I wrote it for was not turning 36.