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?
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