I shift positions
Going into child's pose
From downward facing dog
Annoyed at myself
That I can't maintain this position
For the full count.
Yoga is hard.
It's not something that I think
I can do by myself
I need a group setting to practice.
I like this class
Despite the smallness of the room
Fingers almost touching
Faces dangerously close
To flailing feet
The instructor's voice is soothing
Not British nor New Zealand
Possibly South African
Or Australian
In origin
The accent adds a cadence
To her words.
Finally the standing posses
Tree pose
Warriors 1, 2, and 3
Pigeon pose
I wiggle my toes
My left knee twinges
Tight hamstrings
Are the bane
Of my existence.
I like trying the shoulder stand pose
Even though
I end up toppling over
Losing my balance
More often than not.
My inner five year old
Leaves feeling satisfied.
I wrote this poem last month. Some friends of mine sometimes get together to read poetry that they've written, or poems by others that they like. I've attended a few meetings, but hadn't read anything yet. I decided to write something for the April Fool's Day (April 1st) meeting, and this poem was the result. :)
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