The Elm
Frances McFadden
Arms outstretched, she balanced herself gingerly on one leg, the sole of her right foot resting on the soft pad of her still shapely left thigh, and then, slowly, raised her arms to meet overhead.
"I am a tree," she said aloud, as the Yoga teacher had taught her.
"I am an elm," she amended. "I am an elm rooted deep in the ground." Like Daphne, she felt her feet becoming roots, sap coursing in her veins and leaves sprouting from her fingertips.
