The Embrace of Iron

Here, amid the cold flat solid shapes, Of plates, and stacks, and grips and bars Of movement, knowledge, effort and breath I feel safe, at last.

Here, judgement lives only in the weight and the strain The heft and the shift and the breath and release. The iron’s hands embrace my own as I pull and lift and push Learning through mass and gravity

It never condescends, it never confuses It promises nothing other than itself Exhaustion, strength and peace