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Vriksasana, A Poem for Memorial Day

Ancient-tree-Woodland-walk-at-Allen-Banks-in-Northumberland-past-ancient-trees.j

Limbs I create, leaves—

I breathe, lifting, leaving the cement behind

for this temple of twisters, our mats of grass—

knobby natures—hips, spines, arms

becoming, reaching for light—

reaching an infinite practice.

We are of the same glad soil here—

parents to selves

at peace and at warrior

reversed and humbled—

I taste my thoughts, from nowhere they fall

like a summer shower, steaming,

then gone, suddenly dry.

Leaves wave from my limbs

lush with life before me.

*

Kathleen Kraft is a poet, freelance writer, and yoga teacher living in Jersey City who just published Fairview Road.

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