Is it any more strange

than believing

that a man rose from the dead

that wine becomes blood

for me to believe

that just by being

among you—


you twisted, gnarled

sentinels of the desert

sprigs when pharaohs

were helpless babes

midlife as Rome crumbled—


that I may absorb

a sliver

of your endurance

your willingness

to go on, despite

all you have weathered

all you have seen?


-Brian Rihlmann


Brian Rihlmann was born in New Jersey and currently resides in Reno, Nevada. He writes free verse confessional and nature poetry. He has been published in Blognostics, Red Eft Review, Synchronized Chaos, and others.

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