Small Stone #20

Natalie Schain

Tears welled up as I moved into child’s pose this morning, at the beginning of yoga class.  “I wonder what this is about,” I thought, and then in another pose when the tears were right there again.  Then during shavasana, the lying relaxation pose at the end of yoga class, I remembered.  Natalie died a year ago. I’ll light a candle for her at sunset and let the small glow it creates dance in the kitchen as it grows dark. The candle will still be burning when I get up in the morning.  Another day.

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