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A Fearful Heart

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on January 31, 2022| 6 Comments »

 
 

 
 
Worry comes in like a fruit fly—
slips through the tiniest crack,
a crack I didn’t even know was there—
or it comes in the front door
with something I love—
and soon, worry is everywhere,
laying its eggs in all that would ripen.
Almost instantly, worry multiplies.
Of course, worry would have red eyes.
Worry doesn’t much care the season.
Winter is as good as spring.
And it circles me, buzzes me,
annoys and undoes me,
resists my attempts to be rid of it.
Invites me to learn to live with it.
I never notice when it is gone,
only when it’s here again.

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Drosophila

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on February 17, 2016| 3 Comments »

 

 

 

All winter

the fruit flies

have survived

in our kitchen.

Whatever I know

of fruit flies suggests

they should not

have lived

through the cold.

They never have

made it to February before.

I find them in my wine glasses,

in my tea cups,

one a week or so.

I know that every

living thing is wired

to go on—some mysterious

drive in us says

Live, live. I have

felt it myself

when held too long underwater

or when lost in the woods.

Is this why

I do not try to kill them,

these fruit flies,

though I am repulsed

by their tiny insatiable hunger?

Their name means dew lover.

I, too, am hungry—

I, too, have learned

to adapt to cold.

To adjust is more

practical than to hope.

All winter, in my cups,

there’s a taste of dew,

of learning to thrive.

 

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