Worry and Savor

The twins of an undepressed existence,
Poles opposite the equatorial
Anhedonia, worry and savor

Bracket all Sargasso doldrums, deadly
Calms of the representational drift
That persists in the piriform cortex.

Worry and savor move briskly, take turns.
All the seasons not dull are down to them.
When one is all night, the other’s all sun.

When worry is wreathed in magnetic waves
Of green and lavender upholsteries,
Savor is settled in midsummer glare,

And when savor clutches trudging circles
Of life murmuring under starry skies,
Worry weathers groaning cracks in the ice.

Right on top of either one, life’s too much,
So not much life. Too far away, life droops
And wilts on a silent deck in salt sun.

But just at the distance where the balance shifts
Back and forth, or it’s mountainous enough
To play with clouds and uncertain downpours,

Life, carried away with itself, grows rich.
Some mornings arrive misted in worry,
Some evenings glide, purpled and savory,

But the whole tilts back and forth, the waves blow,
The seasons spin. It’s all always different,
Mostly the same: life, again and again.