I have starting a new method of expression — poetry.
Here is one of my first attempts.
I HATE STRETCHING
I wake. I hear the alarm, then the birds.
I smile.
Then I remember it is Tuesday.
I sigh.
It’s a yoga stretch class day.
Like a child who resists what’s good for her–
Vegetables, baths, bedtimes–
I pout.
I shake my head. I plead my case:
Not right now. Please.
Let me do what I want.
Let me stay as a I am.
I hate stretching.
