The trouble with shadows

I watched perplexed as it moved
sullenly like a disciplined ghost
berated for its existence
as its sole purpose for being
had been a joke,
a lie
that it had just settled down
to take a nap in my thoughts
and in doing so
whispered gently across
the peeling white roof.
Caught so to speak
sleeping on the job
and in doing so
realized the error
of its slovenly ways.
I can’t tell you
the thoughts it sparks
the hows, the whys
the stories it inspires
in this vast mind filled
with moon dust and stars
that silently fall for me
when least expecting
like the slippery ghost
of a daydream that moves
as the sun wakes from its nest.
Why the river flows
moving here and there and
over banks meant to keep it in,
the forces of a whim
the nature of the beast that is
the deepest part of these things,
these endless questions
maybe making no sense to you
but at a deeper level speaking to me.
I won’t say why things are
the way things are
or why things are not
but should be
could be
but it’s not my place
to whisper reprimand to this here,
this shadow ghost that keeps returning
day after day,
the presence that always lingers on the fringe
singing quiet
then louder still,
demanding to be heard as it slides in
through the holes in my head.
I am here
just because
and that’s the trouble with shadows,
they hang about causing mischief
and mayhem
and I don’t know but I think in the long run
I kind of like them.