On the Table

I was taught to smooth the aura at the endsaid my masseuse, hands hovering at the end.

Inches above my placid pummeled selfdid I feel something floating at the end?

Is my naked body merely proneto extoplasmic vapors to no end?

Many another arthritic has lain hereseeking to roll pain's ball end over end.

Herbal oils, a CD playing soft loon calls, wave raps, bird trills now must end.

I rise and dress, restored to lift and bend,my ethereal wisp invisible at the end.

by Maxine Kuminfrom Ravishing Dis-Unities - Real Ghazals in EnglishWesleyan University Press, 2000..