Last to class, I spread my mat on a spot just inside the studio.
I roll off the mat, nudge it away from the stream of cold air
coming in through the space between floor and door.
Leave my sweatshirt and socks on until we finish neck rolls
until we finish side stretches until we’ve finished pelvic tilts
until we’re going up in bridge pose.
The draft from the hallway no longer concerns me,
the frigid air outside the building no longer concerns me
the ache of grief, fresh or old no longer concerns me.
I sit in sukhasana and bend forward slowly, deliberately, till
I reach my edge. I pose and repose, I switch legs.
That my nose does not touch my ankles no longer concerns me.
When I lie against the wall in viparita karani
when I count the breaths in /out I forget that I was late.
Here is the place of ease, the place of comfort, the place of peace.
After class, sitting in my car, I know I should hold on to
that state of not holding on to anything.
Not switch on the car radio to grasp news. Not check my phone.
Fat snowflakes fall onto my windshield.
The sunless day stirs joy in my heart.
Lynne Viti, a senior lecturer emerita at Wellesley College, is the author of Baltimore Girls (2017) and The Glamorganshire Bible (2018 ) (Finishing Line Press), and the forthcoming Dancing at Lake Montebello (Apprentice House Press).
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