sometimes i get afraid all at once of the future.
What if I choose wrong,
what if I drape my days over the wrong bannister,
come up short in the half-mile sprint,
or drown in an ocean without mermaids?

woo me away from thoughts of myself, narrow airless empty;
plant the something that is me deep
into the ground
where i can die quietly
and nourish something small
that needs it.