Space on the Wall by Mary Anne Hill Got to yoga class early, a true traffic miracle, Allowing me a place on the wall to get my legs vertical. My curved spine wonâ€™t lie flat with my legs in a sprawl, But everything lands in sensation with my feet up the wall. Imagine my dismay as I peered through dim light, And saw a blue line of mats like battlefield blight, Jutting out from the walls, the mute myriad of mats, Holding space in the silence like overnight spats! Nowhere to go but an unfettered place in the middle, When and where were the Mat People, the obvious riddle? Just before time, six senior women zipped in the door, And took their sacred places, prime spots on the floor. What time do they get here to reserve the good sites? Do they plan it together? Do they stand in line overnight? Territorial possession, an oppressive theme of our nation, Even in yoga class, itâ€™s all about location, location!! As I lay there irritated and vexed, making sabotage plans, A new person walked in, found no place, had to stand, Until the teacher, with quiet dignity, the room rearranged, And gave a lesson in the peace and justice of Eminent domain.
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