Your Highgate poem is a fantastic reinvention of the tradition of ghosts, Dave, post-modern eerie in a way that has me thinking ‘How right he is… I never thought of that… of course they’d be scared of the dark!’
‘They would be white & watery
as boiled potatoes.’
Clever. So banal and yet oddly disturbing.
I always think ghosts an entirely implausible notion, but yours stay in the mind.