After I posted Cormorant Convention yesterday, a friend and environmentalist reached out to let me know about the seabird starvation event that is happening in coastal California. Cormorants, pelicans, and murres are being affected–not able to find sufficient fish to keep them healthy. The Verselove prompt this morning was about love (or other abstract concepts or emotions) and worry started weaving itself into my writing brain. (I encourage you to check out the mentor text–both the original inspiration and the one written by Kate.)

I worry about birds

the kind of worry that sprouts wings

and flies close to my heart.

Worry doesn’t limit itself though

it grows round

and orbits the sun.

Can I actually enjoy summer weather

when it comes in February

without the dread of what will come next?

Worry snakes itself around my lungs

keeping my breath shallow.

Am I doing enough for the planet?

Does re-using, re-cycling, re-ducing, composting, picking up trash

on my precious beach

make a difference?

Does it really matter?

When I am delighting in the golden glow

of giant kelp

or the colorful quirkiness

of a nudibranch

am I not worrying enough?

I swat at worry

a gnat, a fly, a mosquito bluzzing

determined to make me itch.

Worry is exhausting.

Let me rinse my feet in the cool briny sea

letting hope and possibility

drip into my pores

urging me forward.

I still worry about the birds.

@kd0602