I worry too much
about my heart rate,
my kids’ lunches,
and the laundry

about the gardens
and the weather,
the chickens and
if I’ve fed the dog

about supply chain
issues and elections
and covid and guns
about fires I can’t control.

I worry too much.

I try to sit them all
down sometimes,
scatter them like seeds
out in the field or forest

where I walk,
resting my tired brain,
renewing my hopes,
and then I pick them

back up one by one
on my way home
examining each
with fresh eyes.