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The day after, by Britta Benson

The day after a really good one, a really special, out of the ordinary day often feels like a let down. And I was ready to rant and rave, to sing my heart out about how absolutely awful it feels, the day after a really good one. Then I reminded myself: ‘Britta, you’re a poet. You can see beauty where there is none. Come on, look at the world like the poet you are. Don’t lament what isn’t there. That’s not poetry. Make visible what hides in the corners, underneath stuff.’

Here’s the result.

The day after

The day after such a special one

feels like an unnecessary let down,

takes away from what was

by simply being normal, standard.

I long backwards, never a good idea,

leads to silly yoga poses for the self confused.

I yearn forward, even worse,

my body doesn’t stretch across three time zones.

The day after such a special one

wants and wishes for the absurd.

Must not forget to show up in the present.

Yoga and life are so much more manageable

when done in the same time zone,

especially if it is the one and only present.

Always ready. Always available. Often overlooked.

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