Wednesday, 23 August 2017

Yoga Teacher

by Florence Weinberger


She bends me.

She asks pain?

I say yes.

She knows the soft
willingness of bone,
my rod and my staff,
my stubborn obelisk.

She shifts me.

Considers my position.

She asks pain?

I say no.  She explains
as if anatomy is the only path.
Only a path.

She asks pain?

I say yes and no
for what was and what isn’t,
and still is,
and what will replace it.


* * * * *



"Yoga Teacher" was first published in Poetry Kanto.