Here lean against me
while I lean against the window
trying to steady the world.
Something jittery as the day begins,
a hesitation, a catch in its step,
its uncertain breath.
My friend the librarian always told me that the world
was more than anyone deserved,
more trouble and more beauty.
She said she never understood
why she felt responsible for it,
as if she needed to give it
a good spin every morning
to keep it going, to stop
that wobble that she felt.
And then what, I asked her.
“Just hold on,” she said,
“hold on with everything I have.”