Mama, Don't Worry

I’ve pulled the last stubborn 
cactus from the pasture. 
I’ve plucked the last stinging spines 
from my sister’s hands. 
Her new apartment is safe 
and light, and we wrapped 
each fragile trinket in paper, 
carried the heavy boxes between us, 
broke nothing.

You said let it out, let it 
out, and I do when I have to, 
I let it all out like the hem 
of a garment, stitch by stitch, 
word by word. 


Mama, don't worry. I didn’t call 
on Stacey’s birthday 
but I remembered. 
There’s a hurricane coming, 
but we brought in the horses, 
called our brother, laid in 
canned goods and bottled water.
It’s not our nature
to be cautious, but you 
taught us so many songs 
and Bible verses, we can sing all night 
if the power goes.