ARCHED BACKS ON YOGA MATS ,
cross-legged squatters perched high,
a sleeping man holding down his bench.

Cruising the bike path, there are all kinds of peeps up early.  At daybreak.  As I pedal, many of them are still.  Quiet.  Meditating perhaps.  Maybe reflecting on yesterday, wondering what today holds.  I'm doing the same as I ease by, but it's really not the same.

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