Written for dVerse Poets – ‘Quadrilling
without a care in the world.’ Our host,
Sanaa, asks us to write a poem in 44
words using a form of the word “care”.

Some mornings I forget how to care,
then remember: unlock the door,
water the plant, call my sister.
My mother was a caretaker
of broken things….bruised tomatoes,
chipped cups, the neighborhood stray cat, people.
She taught me that caring is simply
attention and love.
NAR©2026
This is “Handle With Care” by the Traveling Wilburys
Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
This is incredibly deep and poignant ~
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Thank you, Sanaa. This challenge was a revelation.
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Taking care probably starts by seeing.
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Excellent point, Björn. Thanks!
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What a lovely poem 🙂
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Thanks very much.
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This is such a poignant quadrille, Nancy, which made me think of my own mother.
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That’s lovely. Hope you have many happy memories, Kim. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. ☺️
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Nancy, I love how you show that caring means noticing and helping what is hurt, broken, or forgotten.
~David
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Thanks so much for appreciating my quad, David. To me, that really is the true essence of caring. 🥰
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*hug*
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This song is SO good!
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The best supergroup ever! Thanks Keith.
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Your mother was right! And the Traveling Wilburys are great. 😊
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She often was. Love those guys! Thanks, Liz.😊
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The Travelling Wilbury’s….every voice so unique and recognizable but put together they were such a powerhouse. Great song to go with the poem. You had a good mom, Nancy.
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I did, Lois; I wish I realized that sooner.
The Wilburys. Imagine being in a room with these musical giants who were best friends getting together to jam and have a good time. No egos, no walking on tiptoes. Just the guys hanging in Dylan’s studio. What a massive collection of talent and genuine camaraderie.
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Beautifully illustrated with one of my favorite Wilburys songs!
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Thanks, dear friend. I love that song, too. 🥰
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Mine was the same way. God made women that way, empathetic to everything, then he made us guys, knuckle dragging Neanderthals that like tools. I have a feeling you are much like your mother.
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My mother was far more clinical; I wore my heart on my sleeve, like my dad. Still do. But she taught me what caring was all about and I’m grateful for that. Your line about Neanderthals gave me a chuckle. Thanks, Phil.
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Hey! My mother taught me not to knuckle drag! There’s still the Neanderthal brain getting in the way. I did opt for Cooking and Typewriting instead of Wood and Metal work at school though. 👍
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Yeah, I did two years of typing, so when computers came around, I was ahead of the game, sort of. We used those Underwoods and then IBM electrics. My wife Momo gifted me an Underwood student portable a few years back and it kills my fingers to use it. I still knuckle drag once in a while and chew on raw meat.
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This is a touching piece Nance and a great song to accompany it 💖
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Thank you, Ange. If there’s a chance for me to play the fabulous Wilburys, I will grab it! ❤️
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Yes that would be a dream come true 🙌
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Beautiful written 💜
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Thanks so much, Maggie ☺️
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Beautiful 😍
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Thank you my dear friend 🥰
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You’re welcome ☺️
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