I felt a community like no other.

We all sat on noisy wooden chairs

Set in somewhat straight lines, a pinch too close.

These were strangers older than me yet,

I felt that I fit in.

I felt a community like no other,

When we all shared our handwritten words.

Either in notebooks or journals,

sticky notes or phones.

A little clipping from our lives, about fentanyl, bad coffee with god, old stoves, or long journeys.

I felt a community like no other.

We snapped and clapped and laughed

At each other, feeling support from the fellow authors.

I was warm from the attention or the spot light above.

I felt a community like no other,

When I made the day trip to the book store.

Unaware that I was going to find a

realization behind the microphone.