Whatever It Is
By Paul John Roach
I am a guest
In varied landscapes.
I pass the time
In days or decades.
I am attached
To a line in the sand.
I look for confirmation
In dream.
I laugh conditionally
As I search for joy.
When it’s over
How could I help myself?
I am a guest
In the presence
Of others,
Who are as foolish,
Complicated,
And wise as me.
Whatever it is
Is hidden in everyday details,
Or affixed to some corner
Of the endless sky.