All It Will Take
I cannot leave a shoe untied,
forget to put the milk back in the refrigerator,
lose a sock to the static of an undershirt.
I cannot break a glass
wedged too tightly in the dishwasher,
drop a plate on the floor.

The furnace repairman must come when he says he will,
the red squirrel must not hang upside down on the squirrel-proof feeder
and eat seed laid out for sparrows.
The weather must be brisk and clear, as promised.
If it rains I will cry.

If it rains I will cry,
if the garbage bag rips,
if onions burn in the pan,
if the tea is too hot,
too cold.