Worrying

I worry just a bit how much time drags
When you are not with me. What will we do
When we are left with but the shreds and rags
Of time together? For you know it's true
The time is coming when we will not be
Near to each other for a long, long time.
How then will every hour seem to me?
How often will I flee from them to rhyme?
I cannot answer these still-nagging doubts,
Nor do I think solutions will arrive
By magic: but I'm sure there must be outs,
And we will find some way to still survive
For you are worth the trouble, and I hope
You also think that I am, and will cope.