Hanger

A hanger’s a simple tool

of shape and wire,

holding what would otherwise fall.

Shirts, coats, dresses, and uniforms;

each one rests on its thin shoulders,

kept neat, kept ready.

Some hangers carry seasons:

the coat from a harsh December,

the dress from a wedding night,

the scrubs from a tired call shift.

We fold moments into cloth,

press them onto hangers,

and forget how much they hold.

Even people become hangers sometimes

supporting weight that isn’t theirs,

keeping others from wrinkling

under life’s rush.

A hanger stays,

lifting without applause,

until the day its duty

is quietly done.