Seat of Memory

A milk crate, sturdy, beneath laughter's spill,

holds secrets and drinks with a fractured thrill.

The edges worn down, like stories retold,

of makeshift furniture, where dreams unfold.

I watched as they balanced their cups with such grace,

a simple embrace of an unpolished space.

In the chaos of revelry, that crate stood proud,

a testament to comfort beneath the loud crowd.