After “Fear” by Raymond Carver
Doubt the button I sewed on Tom’s sweater will hold
or that my cooking is good enough for company.
Doubt that I can see, when I prune them,
how the roses really want to grow.
Doubt when I speak to the new widow
that I will know what to say
or avoid useless cliché.
Doubt I’ll ever be cool, but now
I’m old enough I doubt it matters.
Doubt that I’ll ever stop
being stupefied by spring
or startled in a silent house
by the muted plink of a petal
dropping from its bouquet.
Doubt there will ever be a better way
than in Tom’s arms to start the day.
Doubt I have the wisdom,
as an unchecked autocrat
drops bombs on a whim,
to be a patriot and a peacemaker.
Doubt that the vulnerability
of this fragile world can be borne.
Doubt that I will ever stop bearing it.
The Kingdom of Enough 