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The Worry Game

There are nights when my worries
choose a game—tonight it’s musical chairs–
To break  the monotony.
Rules are understood: Each time I toss,
turn, flip the pillow  in search of
cool peace, the worries tumble down
to the bottom of my brain. Unfastened
from their customary order,
they scrap and scramble for a sharp place to settle.
The twist they add, to keep the game
worth playing, is brilliant.
Whoever is left,
the worry without a seat,
wins that round.
Winner gets the place of honor,
the cozy chair at the top of my mind,
a chance to stretch out, make themselves comfortable.
Some night I brew them a mug of tea
while we chat, me and the winning worry,
the one who glows in the heat of all my attention
until the next round.

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