No Magic


When the cop confirmed

Her beloved breathed his last breath

She fell on her heart

As if it was a sword.


For days, weeks, months,

She walked in the woods,

Drank water, and wailed

Like a widow.


In June, she jumped on a plane.

Belize—the place to be reborn—

A yoga retreat would do the trick,

She told herself.


Vulnerability pursued her

On the pier, by the beach, under the stars,

By the blue water with the big fish,

She broke open.


Spread thin like the yoga teachers’ words

Demanding she manage

Muscles and mind into moments,

Just moments.


No magic; Damn it!

Balancing poses. Breath.

Hers. The groups’ stretched

Into something more.


She arrived with less

Of herself, her heart, her certainty.

She learned to stand solid.

Still alone, without him.

One thought on “No Magic

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