They come uninvited;
Not one by one, but
All at once, each with its own agenda, shouting
Over each other.
That one over there
Looks new,
But unafraid – he has something to say.
Some are urgent, frantic,
while others meet under golden lights,
unaware of anyone else.
A few are caught in the past,
and tell stories around bonfires
Over and over.
I thought I’d locked the door
But they come in through the back.
“Now focus on the breath,” the instructor says,
“Bring your attention to each
thought, gently touch it –
And then let it go.”
They are startled by the intrusion, and pause
for a moment.
It feels lighter in the room.
I breathe a little easier.
I was never very good at this.
She's Come Undone 