Swizzle Stick

Yoga Mat

I looked, & I found it
lying low
rolled like a sponge cake
bunny abode
for the dust of months
today I must pose
questions to my frame
calm the maelstrom
in my skull, soothe
a body of pain

mat is unrolled, shaken
as I want unrolling & shaking
& now it lies without welcome
the truth is I've not bent
or stretched for moons
getting down to it
this rectangular island
of rubber-back cork
on an ocean of floor
a careful act in slomo
begin with child's pose
but no child I, my face
to the ground, easing in
with dull struggle

no downward-facing dog
am I, instead I am plank
then four-limbed staff
the sun has a laugh
at my crooked salute

I am cobra, will be tree,
acute triangle, falling bridge,
then to end, like in life,
I ease out flat, spent,
holding the corpse pose