Halloween Quartet No 1 Graveyard Special Poem by David Harris

Standing at the bus stop waiting,
when the stranger asked.
“Has anyone seen the Graveyard Special?
I hope I haven’t missed it
or they won’t let me out next year.”
I shook my head and said. “Sorry, no.”
The stranger turned to me.
He wore a tuxedo, bow tie and patent polished shoes.
He looked like a dancer
and an odd smell rose around him
that of rotting decay.
“Been a nice night, hasn’t it.”
“Yes, but they forecast rain.”
“Been out with your girlfriend
and now catching the last bus home? ”
“No, I haven’t got one.”
A cloud passed across the moon
and the strangers face became partially visible
under the pale light of the moon.
A pale face with a sullen look
engraved with hard shadows.
“Going home? ” I asked,
“Yes, we are only allowed out once a year.”
“You live in an old people’s home? ”
“Something like that.” Returned a whispery reply.
A mist descended and swirled around us.
“My bus I can see it.”
The mist became thicker swallowing us up.
The brightly lit bus stopped,
its destination board read Graveyard Special.
The stranger got on and the bus doors shut.
Into the mist, it went to be swallowed up.
The mist then evaporated as quickly as it came.
My bus arrived and as I paid my ticket I remarked.
“I didn’t know the bus company
put on a special bus just for Halloween.”
The driver shook his head and said.
“They don’t, that bus is for the dead ones
who get out once a year.
I have been following it on its route
as it picks them up one by one
to take them back before
the first streaks of dawn appear in the sky.
It takes them back to the graveyard
for another year to stay.”
Getting my ticket, I sat
my hands trembling at the thought
that I had spoken to a ghost.