chlorine the migration of chimera

Condensing tanks
vapor their waste waters
to blue electric, a
flame, a ghost moon
a flare burning out under
water, a river passing into
rock in to language
in to the myth that
created man, hard
hearted and broken
in to a thousand living
landmarks, a sky frozen
and shattered in to
the Christmas lights we
long for, looking up through
trees through the dark
fingers of new man-
stars our ever clear
gaze that stares
down the night and
guilds each walker
home, to adventure
or dreams or the gamble
that this last
saunter will be the
final addition to the
puzzle and walking will
become flying and
flying will be floating
on light water,
the bone hand
lifting of the river, where
the ghost moon nightly
sinks and rises.