Still Haunted

Edward Hopper, Nighthawks

Still Haunted

On the plane, I dream I’m Nighthawk again during the numberless days of war—and after–when there seemed to be no sunshine, only fog. It could have been any day, but on this day without a date, on a back street—dusky ghosts seemed to linger. They flit in the twilight shadows, mouths open in silent screams. Since they no longer have voices, the wind whispers for them, “Why didn’t you do more?” I have no answer. People I knew and people I didn’t, six million and more killed. Arms reach for me—

I wake with a pounding heart. But the dream is my reality. I will always be Nighthawk with ghosts who haunt me. You haunt me, too, Paul, even though I don’t know if you’re alive or dead.

Another episode in my ongoing series. For dVerse’s Prosery. Lisa asks us to use these lines:

On this day without a date,
On a back street, dusky
–Charles Simic, from My Friend Someone

NOTE: Photos on my earlier post today, “Spring Is,” my Monday Morning Musings, disappeared from the post and then reappeared. I have no explanation. Perhaps, WP is haunted, too.

60 thoughts on “Still Haunted

  1. This part really pulled me in: “They flit in the twilight shadows, mouths open in silent screams. Since they no longer have voices, the wind whispers for them,” What a haunting chapter in your story, Merril. I like her name, Nighthawk. I wonder how many Nighthawks have dreams like these 😦

  2. I love that you chose the Nighthawks image, Merril! I used to use it with my creative writing students. I also love that you are continuing with your spy story; it would be lovely if you made a book out of the episodes. You captured the wartime atmosphere in the part that reads: ‘there seemed to be no sunshine, only fog’ and those dusky ghosts that seemed to linger. I hope she finds out whether Paul is alive or dead.

  3. Very striking, both an echo and a homage to the late poet, and I cannot help but feel like the shared painting is beautifully and eerily connected in just the right way to the words.

  4. People I knew and people I didn’t,
    six million and more killed.
    Arms reach for me

    The ravages of war seem to have that hold on us for a long while. War does not seem to end any day in the immediate. It is made to sustain itself. It is economically paying for the arms merchants. What a shame, what a tragedy!

    Hank

  5. Merril, this is scary. A good write of a bad case of PTSD, I hope your poet is getting mental therapy.
    I am glad that you were able to resurrect your “Spring” Monday write, it is really good. A lot of work went into it. It reminds me of our Cinco Ranch subdivision here at Katy. Our walking trails have 13.5 miles (50K live here, mostly single households) of trails in the flood plain water detention, all green areas. Except our black large birds are ducks with white on their wings, also others including white cranes. Oh yes, lots of turtles. Lots of dog walking.
    ..

    • Thank you for your appreciative words, Jim. I suspect my protagonist is on her own, but I have no idea how this will end. 😉

      Thank you for reading my “Musings.” I post them every Monday morning. Your walking trails sound lovely.

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