Friday, October 18, 2024

PRANAYAMA

In order to keep 
the words 
from repeating, 

I concentrate 
on the scenery 
of breathing. 

On mottled gray 
beaches, I watch 
with some relief 

as, one by one, waves 
take the place 
of one another—

each doomed one 
briefly assuming 
it's the first 

and the last 
to reach land—
and the best—

before relinquishing 
its grasp, ceding chattels 
to the next. 

And as I breathe out 
and in again, a fresh 
thought is expressed: 

I'm glad I'm not 
the only one 
who does that.