The answer to Solving Worry

National Poetry Month 2020

Let me take you back to age nine

when my cares were swamped in a bowl of Captain Crunch,

the biggest, brightest marshmallow-

my greatest worry.

Some would say worry is obsolete,

it does not matter-

cereal doesn’t constitute as worry, anyway.

Worry was a reality-

every little thing steeled in my mind like a wasp settles under the boards of a porch roof-

taking hold until a visitor let’s him in.

I worried about more-

more than cereal.

I worried about death.

Would I need to pack?

Where do we go?

What happens when the universe dies, too?

These questions from a nine year old’s mind might seem far fetched.

They are not.

For questions are the only answer to solving worry.