We're looking. For something so simple.
So simple, that we can't hold it in
our hands. Or in our heads.
So we look to him. To her.
To them. To there.
We look to everywhere but here.
To when. To then. But not to now.
It's hidden just beyond our cleverness.
So we presume it's out there.
But perhaps it's in here.
© Nic Askew