2 for Halloween – part 2, “The Ghost’s Lament for His Former Home”

I think it’s been three hundred year
This house has almost fallen down
No one I knew back then is here
Where once was field, now there is town

Once children came and broke the glass
Spooking them helped pass the time
Then there was that lover and his lass
See, scrawleded upon the wall – his rhyme

What will I do when those beams give
How can I haunt a pile of wood
It won’t be fit for a ghost to live
I may have to go – this time for good

One day I’ll wake to heaven instead of dawn
I hope the spiders miss me when I’m gone


2 for Halloween – part 1, “In the Dark”

In the Dark

You never saw me, did you, there, in the dark room?

I was standing right there, by the window, watching you as you came in and sat on the bed. You looked – how shall I put it? – a little lost.

You took off your jumper and threw it on the floor. I almost went over, to pick it up, tidy it away, but stopped myself. What would have been the use, anyway?

You buried your face in your hands for a long minute. Were you crying? I took a step, the smallest, tiniest of steps, but then you suddenly stood up, and I froze.

You came to the window to look out over the back garden. A distant street lamp shining through the trees cast a complex illumination across your face.

I held my breath, then let it out when you turned away. You never saw me and I was only six inches away. If I had put my hand out and touched your face, would you have felt something?

You fell into bed with your clothes on, tossed and turned for a few minutes, then became still – so still. Until I saw your hand twitch, I wondered.

Now, asleep, I can sit on the bed next to you, and here in the dark, softly, soft as a memory, caress your fine hair with the tips of my fingers.