The Echoes of Spirits Past

In the years of plague hundreds of people who died were buried under the square in our town.
There is a labyrinth of tunnels leading from the minster to the square and then spidering off to shops and homes in the vicinity.
There have been many reports of ghosts in the dwelling places. My aunt was the cook at a local public house and many times she witnessed the movement of objects and chairs occupied when no one was there.
Further down the road in the old farmers yard was a witches coven and some say that this is haunted. I have experienced a ghost in my house of an old lady. She has touched my shoulder and moved coat hangers and chairs. Mwhaaaaa!
I have written this poem from the inspiration I got from theses memories.

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"Thirteen days of Halloween 2015" 

Day2

Under the spruced cobbled stones in the square
The centre point of the town
How mordent the reaper laughs
Deep under the feet of shoppers oblivious
A labyrinth of tunnels used in bygone days
Secret plague dead in hundreds lie decaying in wait
Shops in neighbouring streets their basements hold the key
To the trail of echoed spirits
In a public house the barmaid washes glasses
A chair by the window is moved and the cushion lowers
Nobody to be seen but the smell of human flesh is in room
Cold air sweeps across the nicotine stained walls and shadows dance
It is said that on all hallows night
Grown men have shook on their bar stool swearing they saw ghosts

88 words
Alexi Mason