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Worry Beads

Image by photographer Guido Mocafico. Found here:

In the “ought to be sleeping” times,

my brain rattles worry beads

in the recesses of my mind.

Coiled like sleeping snakes

most of the time,

out they come,


the temperature all wrong to rest,

forked tongues flashing -

out from their nests,

looking for whom they may devour.

The fingers of my stress

count their scales,

click, click, clicking -

a Rosary of anxiety,

dropping prayers like stitches

and leaving holes in my soul.

Veins and arteries,

nerves and guts -

All -

strung with worry beads,

hissing the night away

and counting the minutes

till morning.

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