ghost story

no shapes defined but still we see a shape
there is no form but still we make it be
there's nothing there but we can see
the way it moves the way it fills a cape
we see it dance we see it bow and scrape
and still we wonder how we find the key
to all these visions why they do not flee
they are we think but mere forms of escape
and yet when we have written what we know
the shapes remain and keep their glowing form
we've not a choice but to accept their being
something else must remain for we must show
that we know how they deviate from the norm
and how they fill the spaces of our seeing