I am here, in this air, walking through the bodies
Of the ghosts who still converse, read the news and eat
I walk straight through them, their life goes on
Am I a ghost or is it them?
And the two old ladies who lived here
The spaces between the particles
Inside the particles
Are where such ghosts may live
So close, yet so infinitely distant,
From the other people on the earth
I see you but it is a film
It’s running backwards
So we might wave as we cross over
Or are we looking the other way?
Looping around we travel in this funfair of novel life
On the big dipper, we fly off like freed flowers
Embellishing the air with faint colour as we leave a trace behind
