Ideas swirl through his mind,
thoughts career,
snippets of conversations,
fragments of emails,
shadows of intentions,
vaguely misremembered promises,
each representing
a task,
a responsibility,
something to do.
As though propelled by
some force unseen
they crash, collide,
then fly away to disappear
leaving chaos in their wake,
increasing anxiety,
provoking paralysis.
He struggles to slow their frenzy
that he might pluck them
one by one from the maelström to
name them,
ponder them,
weigh them,
value them,
in order that he might strip them
of their power to intimidate
and herd them into
some coherent, prioritized order
upon which he will act.
21 August 2012
DL 1817
ATL – DEN
Along the Graybeard Trail 