Ghost Scene

All that’s left to shoot is the

Ghost Scene haunting my sleep,

the one my dream-self is sure I’ve

forgotten, though the actors are

all wrong, in the wrong clothes, the

wrong set, and no one seems to know

what they are doing, especially

me.

Incoming/Outgoing

“And….” brings background into motion

“…action” cues actors into a busy,

hopefully realistic street-scene, the

boom-swinger alert to the

shadows cast by late-afternoon sun, the

grips alive to the stuttery pace of

people through a crowd, the crew

taut, patrolling their beats, the

clock, like the sun, running down, then the

sardonic eyes of the sound man meet mine,

inviting my ears to savour the

sonics of an incoming plane.

 

I call “Cut” and the curses begin,

black looks cast up at the

slender tube glinting in the sun now setting:

actors sigh, background resets, we

begin again, while all I can think of is

couples holding hands that bit tighter,

children awed breaching cloud,

business to be done, sunset deferred, whilst

I find I cannot curse something I

wish I were aboard.