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The Wonders of Worry

by Marci Madary

Worry wakes me at four in the morning.

Worry walks with me and my dog.

Worry refuses to wash off my hands, even with soap.

Worry waits for the moment between thoughts, to rise and roil, snarl and snag.

It creases the skin in the middle of my eyebrows

and wearies my shoulders.

Worry tenses my stomach and tightens my chest.

Grabbing my ankles, it pulls me to bloodied knees.

Worry wanders over and slides under my locked door.

It smacks my soul when I am not looking,

bruising me in its wake.

It leaves me soaked with dread.

A worry-free life would be so wonderful

but it sticks to me like a shadow.

Each day I pray to let go of worry.

The next day, I pray again.

photo by Ed Siderewicz


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