At the Y the mirror mediates my effort to enhance my fitness as a human being.
Internal mutterings compare, contrast, and evaluate my looks.
I wonder if the mirrors make you look thinner, maybe fatter, but
I’m okayed by the many variations in the way people wear their bodies.
I have come to know people at their humblest: clumsy in goofy exercise clothes
Instead of the usual uniforms that identify their personas and life purpose.
We offer snippets about our lives to people whose first names we keep forgetting.
Bad knees and quirky hips are easier to remember.
Sometimes I feel a wave of concern or a rush of love for someone in the mirror.
Sometimes--once in a great while--my internal muttering goes mute.
We merge, my body moving as one with the group behind me,
this step-together-stepping creature with 60 legs in the mirror in front of me.