The Gift of the Sixth Year






In our Stone Age we had just emerged.






Still learning





to bend and command





nature






Grunting





and gesticulating






Yet still we built






Tools from stone





Foundations that still stand







In our Bronze Age we went beneath the surface






Dug deep





For something we did not even know existed





And as we came up





Gasping for air






Our voices escaped






Our gods appeared.










And we found meaning





In things that we did not even know existed






And now we enter our Iron Age





Our fires stoked so hotly





That we burn






All of those impurities that questioned our strength










We are made of steel.





Made of steel.






The gift of the sixth year is iron.
















Each year I write a poem to commemorate our wedding anniversary using the traditional anniversary gift as the inspiration.





Click the links below to read previous poems.
Year 1
Year 2
Year 3
Year 4
Year 5


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Published on June 19, 2019 11:12
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