Your Morning Yoga

I like to watch you, naked, out of bed
And pointing skyward. You salute the sun
With curtains closed and bedside lamp switched on.

I’m happy that you use the bathroom first.
It gives me precious extra time alone
To play the foetus and deny the man.

I do this every day. So why, today,
Has childish grief invaded my routine
With sudden, useless tears I can’t contain

For thinking of a time, I pray to God
To make it distant, let it not be soon,
When I won’t see you in that pose again?

Listen to this poem — read by the author