My ghost has a ghost, that’s what she told me,
who follows her, just like she follows me,
and when no-one’s around they whisper,
share secrets and nonsense together.
She told me that her ghost said the very
same thing—her ghost has a ghost of his own,
always trailing along behind him.
I wonder how many ghosts there might be,
in the chain of phantom companions.
Sky reflected in George’s River, bough reflected in water.