GRAVEYARD SHIFT

Went for a stroll after work
Surprisingly the graveyard gates were still open.
Not really a place to hang about.
A man was mumbling on one of the benches,
got up and then collapsed in a bed of ivy.
A father and his young daughter crossed the path
and hurried on.

Two mates arrived to haul the drunk off.
I upped the iso to 3600
and took a dozen photos.
I followed the path round the kirk towards Union Street
The pavers glowed yellow in the lamp light.
The headstones fluoresced green.
I cut the iso down to 800,
and pressed the camera down on Farquharson's granite bed .
Held tight and steady at 8 seconds,
nothing moved.
Sharp as a razor.

The gates at Union Street are closed and locked.
The high viz jacket of the night watchman,
materialised out of the dark.
I don't know who got a bigger shock.
He never asked what I was doing amongst the stones.
Time for home and a warm fire.
You wouldn't want to be caught out on a cold night like this
with Clever Dirty Andrew Moir.