“Your up and your down and your up and your down,” goes Moby as I try to keep up with Brendan, a cop from Australia, doing pause pushups.

Peony

Marilyn Chin

Why must I tell you this story, O little one
You’re just a bud-of-a-girl, who knows nothing

Now you are full-faced, bright as sun
Now you open your skirts pink, layered, brazen

Suffering is alchemy, change is God
Now you droop your head, heavy with rust

Sit, contemplate, what did Buddha say?
Old age, sickness, death, no one owns eternity

Detach, detach, look away from the sun
Let your petals fall aimlessly

Don’t despair, little one, we are done