Where would you rather be?

I saw this balloon flying over my office building as I was coming to work. I think it was a sign! Had a day that was the norm - both frustrating and boring, except that I walked down to the river and saw this and thought again, where would I rather be.

Got home and decided to go running,

I ran tonight,
after months and years of not running
knee hurts, stomach ache, head pounding,
run a block, walk a block, alternating
hurt and release.

I listen to a podcast, modern music,
about poem making, reminding me of last night
an acquaintance inquiring, am I still writing?
No, I said, trying not to put more regret
than would be socially acceptable,

The sky is crochetted with creamsicle
and dryerfluff, across a blue counterpane
crows fly beneath toward night roosts.

My driftwood picture sits on my artist table,
unglued for a year, afraid to paste down what
I saw that day on the coast we went to stare at
the radioactive dock from Fukashima,
bringing home local flotsam to squeeze
a handful of driftwood into art,
if only I could be definite for once,
about my desire.