Iowa Writes

JULIE HANSON
Flow


I like the bare feet, the cotton knit crop pants and simple
        sleeveless tee,
I like unrolling the mat with a snap of the wrists, whipping it out on the
      floor
      like a frog hurling out its tongue down on the pond in the mist.
I like the dimmed down lighting of the room.
I like the balancing poses like tree and eagle and warrior three
and being reminded of where we fold in half
and the symmetry of every action taken
being taken once again on the other side. And the ujjayi breathing
which enters and exits only through the nose, but does so
audibly, the wave of breath rolling out until all thatís left is the last
uneven edge of it and then how it has to come back.

I like the bare feet, the cotton knit crop pants and simple
        sleeveless tee,
I like unrolling the mat with a snap of the wrists, whipping it out on the
      floor
      like a frog hurling out its tongue down on the pond in the mist.
I like the dimmed down lighting of the room.
I like the balancing poses like tree and eagle and warrior three
and being reminded of where we fold in half
and the symmetry of every action taken
being taken once again on the other side. And the ujjayi breathing
which enters and exits only through the nose, but does so
audibly, the wave of breath rolling out until all thatís left is the last
uneven edge of it and then how it has to come back.
I like the way I donít think once about civil litigation
until long after weíve come out of corpse pose and said namaste.
I like thinking of my hip as a melting block of ice
as I slip deeper into pigeon. I like all these animal names
and the stretch in the back of the legs, and the twists
and the nearly indistinguishable versions of the sun salutation,
and the bridge, the plow, and the face of the cow. I like the mild
          complaints
from the rear of the room, the pleadings for an extra long
        savasana
at the end of the hour. I like feeling that my torso has actually
        lengthened
when Iíve been reminded once again to lengthen it.
I like rolling up my mat and exiting through the revolving door,
surprised by a blast of heat or by the rain, and by the perfect fit
of my shoes and the ease of my gait, and how I slip in and fold
behind the wheel into the driverís seat like a thin young thing:
My organs are surely glistening. This car was made for me.

more

About Iowa Writes

Since 2006, Iowa Writes has featured the work of Iowa-identified writers (whether they have Iowa roots or live here now) and work published by Iowa journals and publishers on The Daily Palette. Iowa Writes features poetry, fiction, or nonfiction twice a week on the Palette.

In November of 2008, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) designated Iowa City, Iowa, the world's third City of Literature, making the community part of the UNESCO Creative Cities Network.

Iowa City has joined Edinburgh, Scotland and Melbourne, Australia as UNESCO Cities of Literature.

Find out more about submitting by contacting iowa-writes@uiowa.edu


JULIE HANSON

Julie Hanson moved to Cedar Rapids in 1978, earned an M.A. and M.F.A. at the University of Iowa, and never moved away. She has poems in recent issues of Meridian and Great River Review, new work coming in Fulcrum and 32 Poems.

This page was first displayed
on December 10, 2006

Find us on Facebook