I Don't Think I Can

deal with more rain
sort through the clutter before Dad's visit
make up for sleeping in
garden this week, especially with the rain
replace the things that are lost
exist solely in the present
forgive myself for all my mistakes
squeeze time for the spiritual into the mundane
keep it up like this

understand what that man is saying (gravelly and slurred)
see through the raindrops on my glasses
resist such a sweet dog, peering from a passing car
walk by Great Danes without them barking
figure out how a broom could get so flattened
remember the proper way to care for a flag (mud seems bad)
find all the pieces of a torn-up love note
smell anything more lilting than a lilac
stop laughing at signs that faded in the rain

Again, I dictated a list into my Sony digital voice recorder while taking my dog for her morning walk. Then I transcribed them and whittled down the list. I noticed that, as I kept walking, more and more of the musings were positive, centered on the things I was noticing. I decided to structure the poem that way, with the first stanza more negative and the second more positive.