Stone Meets a Ghost
Stone’s just standing around among the ruins
He’s waiting in the shadows to see the sun come up
A ghost comes along
It’s weeping
It has no shape no face
It looks like mist it weeps
Stone thinks
Is this just mist
But it’s weeping
Stone tries to comfort the ghost
But his arms wrap round nothing
They come back cold and damp
Stone tries speaking to the ghost
Gentle words his voice disappears
It flops soundless a wet rag on the ground
The ghost weeps its sighs
Long weeping deep sighing
Stone fills up with its eternal sadness
Stone weeps he sighs
Long weeping deep sighing
Not even the early morning birds
Not even the starry snails
Not even the grandmother trees
Can comfort him
The ghost wraps its arms around him
The ghost speaks gentle words in his ear
Stone goes numb
He dissolves in the sunrise
The ghost laughs.
*David Calcutt is a playwright, poet and children's novelist. His latest novel The Map of Marvels is published by OUP. He works on a project making poetry with people with dementia and is currently writing a play for Midland Actors Theatre based on stories by Chekhov. This is his website.
