One Thing at a Time

My mind is spinning like a top

as I lay dizzy-daunted in my bed.

All these worries never stop.

"One thing at a time," he said.

Ground and sky go tumbling by.

I land hard and fight for breath.

Gentle hands help me stand.

"One thing at a time," he said.

Signal, brake, accelerate.

What is green will soon be red.

I'm white knuckled and terrified.

"One thing at a time," he said.

With tassels to the left

and cliché, bogus speeches read,

on to scholarships and textbook lists.

"One thing at a time," he said.

Four years later, at a podium,

I stand and speak and sweat.

In the end, they clap for me.

"One thing at a time," I said.

Now when I'm afraid

and my good sense goes astray,

I smile and compose myself

because I know what dad would say.