Do Not Worry

You said not to worry about what we eat or drink;

My basic needs are met.

I can't remember the last time I missed a meal

Or wasn't able to drink whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it.

You said not to worry about what we would wear;

Unless you count clothes that used to fit being too tight,

I'm all set there, too.

I'm warm and secure, and the vanity and pride in my life

Has nothing to do with what I put on.

I'm not trying to add any hours to my life.

Sometimes I wonder if the hours I've already had are too much.

The Golden Rule is feeling tarnished,

My salt is piled up to be scattered during the next ice storm,

And I don't know where my treasure is,

But I think it's been rusty moth food for years.

But I'm still worried.

I'm worried this dark fortnight of the soul

Will keep creeping along the calendar

Until all my days are swallowed up

By an inky blackness that hangs over me

Like an oppressive thundercloud.

The lord of the wind and waves is out to lunch,

And the phone goes straight to voicemail every time I call.