Between Decades – a poem by Diane Elayne Dees

Between Decades

On the last day of the decade, I decide
to make an effort. I begin with a restorative
yoga class, and when the instructor tells
us to float our bodies toward the sky,
then bring them back to the earth, I am
surprised to learn that I can do this.

Then she tells us to forgive ourselves,
and levitating my body suddenly feels
like a piece of cake. I twist myself through
the class, then walk two miles among oaks
and pines on what is a perfect cold
and sunny day, my favorite music blaring
in my ears. I don’t exactly embrace
my loneliness, but I don’t resist it, either.
I manage not to cry.

I make an old-fashioned and drink it
while I prepare a stew, ending the day
with a bit of old-school style and substance.
My own new decade arrives in just days.
It is an advanced one, and I become frightened
when I anticipate it. I cannot fight time,
though I would like to kill it. Perhaps,
in this new decade, I can learn to forgive myself.
In the meantime, I can float my body toward
the sky, and maybe—for now—that is enough.


Diane Elayne Dees has two chapbooks forthcoming. Her microchap, Beach Days, is available for download and folding from Origami Poems Project. Diane also publishes Women Who Serve, a blog that delivers news and commentary on women’s professional tennis throughout the world. Diane Elayne Dees


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