--- LITTLE FEARS --–

John Herlihy

Even if not ready to admit they know,

Everyone soon realizes what they drag in tow.

Fear of heights, of water, or lurking shadow,

Fear of closed spaces, dragonflies in a meadow.

With no clear name, fear hides within as a ghost,

Roaming rooms of the mind as an uninvited host.

I knew a mountain man who valued most being brave,

But allergic to a tiny ant, he ran away like a scared knave.

Fear of crowds, fear of loneliness, fear of soulful solitude,

Whether alone or among numbers, some seek plenitude.

The crack of the whip, the breaking apart of winter ice,

The sudden blast of a gunshot makes some feel like mice.

Do not exult too much about your feelings of being bold,

The day may come when your little fears will finally be told.

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(c) John Herlihy 19 November 2018