Ghost Story Part IV


Carrying on with its journey
A trail of carrier bags
Follows the tram
Springing to the Lowry Centre
Like the end of a wedding dress,
Leaving half heard words
Burshed windswept
Over the edge
Of a deserted platform
On a chilly sunset
Touching the boats
Slowly passing by
Begging for a speedy divorce,
inbetween life and death.

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One night I climbed a crazy, cobbled hill

And glimpsed myself some thirty years ago;

A troubled child despondent in the snow,

A banished ghost and yet remembered still.

I’ve seen myself elsewhere on silent streets,

On busy roads, in stations, trains and cars;

A spectre drinking in the same old bars -

Far younger and untouched by life’s defeats.

My ghosts will alwa...

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