“Get to the forest and breathe out,” my son says,
but instead, my aging legs curl in fetal position,
and I weep for everything I have no control over,
like a loved one dying, a friend’s imprisonment,
fear, depression, and world news, blood pressure
rising, anxiety pounding in head and chest, 
with nothing but trees to keep me from drowning,
and the constant downpour of rain to hold me.