How to take a shirt whose pattern I love
but whose size is one smaller than that
I have worn for decades now; swimmer’s
trapezius giving me a wide-set back
meant for moving great waves of water past,
my body cruising, seal-like, through surf
while my spirit whispers: adapt, adept!

You’ve done this all before;
if you want a thing and it harms no one,
make it yours. There is always a way—
a little patience, a little air; leave it
out of the dryer, hang it from the line,
let the trade winds loosen the weave.

And as I squeeze my way into this garment,
I laugh, recalling all the times I’ve folded myself
small to please, buttoned my own wildness
behind a smile, let seams dig into the tender parts
just to keep the peace.

This time, I tug gently, breathing into the cotton’s
resistance, and feel it give—
not rip in defeat, but yield in forgiveness—
while I remember:

the body expands,
the spirit can too;
we grow beyond what once defined us,
and the fit, though different, is still beautiful—
a pattern worth keeping,
a life still stretching
to fit its own becoming.

Pop ~ bj 2017