Breath control

I used to be able to hold a note
in my lungs and my diaphragm
and still have some left at the rest.

(In those days I pictured Valkyrie horns atop my head
and a bosom bursting with high B’s.)

Now I feel the note rushing through my pipes
defying my attempts to control it,
strangling off at the end,
gasping.

A metaphor for life and youth and death?
No, I am not that poetical.

But then, we can all benefit
from practice
and sit-ups.

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