Have You Tried Yoga
Be like the turtle, go inside
your stress, the Buddhist says before
setting himself on fire. At the window
in the kitchen before the sink
it is not interesting to listen
to myself. Nothing changes
in the brain during meditation
for beginners, the neurologist
claims. Plate, pan, spatula, splattered
kettle; I scrub my fingertips
chapped. The yogi says send
your hips back, send your heart down
and though I try, I no longer know
how to cry. I stroke the thorns
on the aloe, notice new growth
of basil from the otherwise dying
stem. My mind knows time
is abstract and moves back
to the autumn street of childhood,
hands smashing cake as I watch
next year’s birthday pass
the same as today. I know meditation
is routine. I dry the last dish, walk
to my desk and write another
plan to erase.
Claire Denson’s work appears in the minnesota review, Massachusetts Review, Salt Hill Journal, BOOTH, Peach Mag, Sporklet, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, and Hobart, among others. She reads for The Adroit Journal and lives in Brooklyn, NY. Find more at clairedenson.com.
