bring fear home
and stay with it
Bring fear home
give it space
a room
a bed
and a window
that looks out on the garden
at the weeping maple
the white-crowned sparrow
likes to sit on while singing
the world into light each day.
bring fear meals
make sure he has blankets,
a thermos of warm tea
and turn on some music
in a different part of the house
not too loud, but loud enough
he will know he's not alone.
and one day when you are
on your way out the door
with a list of things to do,
you’ll hear his door whisper open,
you’ll feel his soft footsteps on the floor,
and you’ll see his tentative face
down the hallway asking
if you can't just stay a little while.
“I don't want to be alone.
I just remembered my name
and it's too big to wrap my arms
around. I need your arms too.
Please stay. Help me create
a space for this Grief.”
_written April 18 2026If you enjoyed this poem, you may enjoy hearing me read some of my other poetry live alongside other poets at my next virtual poetry open mic on May 17th at 7pm (Central Standard Time). This free event is an opportunity to connect deeply with others from around the world through poetry and the spoken word. We have both new and returning poets joining the event and there is still space to sign up if you’re interested in attending or even reading some of your own poetry (or the work from poets you love). Sign up here.
I’ll send a link to the event the day before.
If you want to join but the timing doesn’t work for you, keep an eye out for the next one which will be in mid-July.
This was a lovely read this morning, Andy, and very relatable. So often there is another emotion under my fear. And though I don't always remember, it always seems to help when I treat fear as a friend or a lost child. I'll think of your poem next time and maybe that will help me remember!
Andy, thanks for sharing this interesting personification of fear, and the idea that fear itself is a manifestation of loneliness holding onto grief. I regretably will miss this next open mic as I will be away next weekend (at a poetry festival!). Hopefully I'll see you at the next!