Ode To a Long Ago Ghost

Right before dark in the middle of June, Between the setting sun and the rise of the moon I feel an eerie vapor, damp and dim, Exhale from a distance fence and over its rim It steals like magic over grass and field, A motion in sunder, my eyes reveal Dare, I stand there wide awake, Dare, I stay for pretty words sake The strangest presents from a silent tree top, Through a lattice of limbs a bodiless drops So, fearful above and close to my wall, My chest like shadows rise and fall I say to myself, “have no fear, Why or what are you dreaming here?” Shaking from nerves from unopened eyes, I stand and feel the ghost go by Does he sleep just over that fence, What kind of a danger does a ghost present? Does his tomb have a sounding door, Do you hear that echo or more?