Sunday Poetry: What Else Can He Do But Run?

Welcome to Sunday Poetry.   If this is your first visit you can read about the purpose and inspiration of my Sunday poetry blogs here.

I've spent the last few weeks trying to figure out my future.  My husband is retiring this summer, and we plan to move south.  Where?  Not quite sure.  When?  Don't know that, either.  When and how will we sell our house here in Virginia?  Another and temporarily all-consuming mystery.

In the meantime, I'm feeling pursued.  Pursued by a deadline for a book that's going great guns but wants every minute of my day.  Pursued by the "junk" I've collected over years and don't want to take to another house.  Pursued by decisions.  I remind myself this is good stuff.  We want to move.  We want to move to a warmer winter climate.  We want to start this different phase of our lives.  But pursuers are rarely silenced with logic.

Pursuit, by Stephen Dobyns arrived on my homepage today and I knew, immediately, I had to share it with you.  What's pursuing you?  Are your pursuers the "chaos of the mind?"  "Failure?"  I'm pursued by fear I might make a mistake, which would, in the long run, mean I'm just another ordinary human being prone to error and success, sometimes both in the same moment. 

Maybe you'll find this one as relevant, thought-provoking and in the end, as satisfying as I did.

Remember there are no quizzes here, no right ways to read or contemplate the poem we share.  Absolutely no dissecting allowed.  Just come along for the "read."  What line, word or thought will you carry with you this week?  If you'd like to tell us where the poem took you?  We'll listen.