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My Little Compadre

I have become someone who worries about nothing
I try my damnedest to cover the overhead and bills
the daily annoyances that pelt me
like stones tossed by children from the streamside

my little compadre assures me I’ve tried
that my success or failure should not disturb my being
I just don’t get bothered anymore

I can’t pinpoint exactly when it was
that my compadre arrived
he most certainly wasn’t there
when my nightmares woke me frightened
and choking on air thinned by spirits
or when the funerals left me distraught
in complete shock over the loss
and fear of non-existence

my compadre has a knack for finding new direction
when the one I’ve chosen has failed
the future means nothing anymore
I simply deal with it when it becomes now
I am absorbed in today’s me
and the contentment transcends
everything I’ve ever known
everything I thought I had

I call him little because he feels little
not the dominating type, this compadre of mine
never really tried to get a good look at him
no need to
I know when he’s here more than I know anything else

I’ve been assaulted with accusations of lacking a sense for urgency
but my compadre and I step back
we observe, and then continue with our best


Lee Crowell

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