In habit for the chase array’d,
The hunter still the deer pursues,
The hunter and the deer, a shade!

Phillip Freneau

Haunted by desire’s mad melodies,
By faces idealized in reveries;
Memory itself is haunted
By photos never taken.

To visualize is to be taunted
By scenarios that reawaken,
Longing for what has never been,
Yet what the mind has seen.

The haunted are mistaken,
Hunting memories and dreams;
Trying to catch that which vanishes
upon awakening. Doomed to realize
That the hunted bird ever flies.

PROMPT #17:

What are you haunted by, or what haunts you?
Write a poem responding to this question.
Then change the word haunt to hunt.