by Nathalie Goykhman
Ardha chandrasana has been a mystery,
a penumbra. I enter the
pose with radiant strength, my standing leg lean and
firmly planted, supporting hand lightly grazing
the ground. fingertips, like rays, reach
for the ceiling, my floating limb like a straight edge.
Sweat glistening in the craters of my body.
The instructor tells us to shift
our gaze to the sky, causing wobbles. Now I am
waxing and waning, like the lunar librations
I oscillate in my facing.
My lifted leg looks more like a crescent, bent and
dangling, I stumble and so lose my path like all
When will I eclipse unforeseen difficulties?
Clouded by frustration, my luster dims. I think
“maybe in the next lunar phase.”
Part gleaming and part nebulous in Half Moon Pose.