Worry

 

My mind seems in
A defensive mode,
Shying away from
Thinking, looking for
Something to do, but
When I reach for anything
I touch something of hers.

Picking up a book,
I find beneath a note
About her, or when
About to do a thing
I wonder what she
Will think and briefly
Worry then realize

I won’t need to worry
Again, but then I’ll
Wonder.  I know so
Well what she would
Think having her near
For such a long time
I may worry forever.