With My Ghost in the 2nd Moon

We walked up here 

waited entered and left.

Then returned,

to the same place,

unrecognizable

to what was

30 minutes before.

We climbed beyond

the place the police stopped us,

up into the burnt square

painted by 11 brushes of fire.

We walked the path of the flames,

like ghosts that had visited here

on mistaken dates in their pasts.

We leaned towards

the crowded dark,

searched for abandoned ribbons

to access the fragrant listening

and saw them come out and in

dressed in 9th century parachutes,

readied for leaping

from word to word

over the distances of lifetimes.

And just before we left again,

you walked away from me,

to be near the water

and the lanterns became

the several phases of 

the moon's voice, 

each softly describing

a different curve

of your right shoulder.

by jerry gordon

3.14.2013