High tide in yoga class
Now it’s time to let go of anything that
does not serve you, she says
I sink into the stretch
Breathe in peace
Breathe out pain
Harp music: a lullaby melody
Hush a bye, don’t you cry…
I hear my long-ago self crooning,
round baby latched to my breast
Blacks and bays, dapples and grays
All the pretty little horses
When you wake, we’ll have cake…
Oh, I feel such an ache
Joy and despair, inseparable twins
Brightness paired with brackish dark
Time to curl up, like a fetus
a reminder, she says, that we can always
begin anew
Anew floods me. It’s high tide in Ohio
deep-etched patterns melt as awareness swells,
crests—suddenly, I taste salt
eeo 