Away for a month, it was time to get back to the gym.
To stretching arms, legs, core.
It’s called Farmer’s Carry, explained the trainer.
Like a farmer carrying two pails of milk.
As he demonstrated, carrying a weight in each hand.
Keeping shoulders back, breathing.
Walking erect, one end of the room to the other.
Back again.
So, I emulated him.
Carrying, then being carried.
Right back to age twelve.
My mother sending me to Charm School.
At Gimbels Department Store.
To learn to pull shoulders back.
Stand up straight.
Walk gracefully with balance.
Perching a plate atop the head.
Daring it to fall.
Now, doing it again.
In old age.
Never having thanked my mother
for the thoughtful care she gave.
I felt the ocean in my stomach,
a strong regretful wave.
Lynn Benjamin
February 10, 2024