questions

in the mist of all
we have questions

we ponder
existencial doubts
because answering them
is no longer sought for

sometimes
we hide in the the summer rain
wondering
the path to go back
in circle goes the thought

in the mist of all
we need to have
some of any substance
a howl to pick apart

sight-seeing ourselves
breaking from the part we don’t want
to have or to much to do with
to make a selfie
under the shadows of the sun

we endure
the lack
of us
when me made them
have a crisis
anxiety or extasis

in the mist of all
we have the privilege
to have that power
to endure
the question
that led to nowhere