sticky fear

like the squirrel
in the road,
I scramble back and forth
from one
decision to another.

north or south.
up a tree,
or over the fence.
run or stay put,
which way do I go from
here.

it isn't easy, it isn't
clear.
the unknown
is so unknown, so much
of what to do
or not to do
is governed by what's
come before,

the stickiness of
inexplicable fear.