by Vivienne Blake
Edward Hopper, Nighthawks (1942)
A strange and lonely cityscape –
no cars, no crowds, just a young couple
bickering quietly about nothing
or maybe newly-met lovers
encased in a romantic bubble.
The solitary man
wonders about them, who they are,
what they’re doing in this dead-alive dive,
far from the bright lights
and the city bustle.
The weary waiter
is eager for his shift to end.
No tips from this lot, that’s for sure.
With business this slow
is his job in trouble?
Around the corner a hobo gazes,
envying the warmth within.
He turns away, creeping
towards his park bench home
with shivering shuffle.
Process Notes: I have always loved paintings by Edward Hopper since I was a small girl, sitting under the table leafing through Saturday Evening Posts at my Grandmother’s, while the adults watched television, which I found boring. His paintings always seem to tell a story.
Vivienne Blake makes quilts and poems and stories in her small village home in Normandy. Her slow and wobbly rambles often appear in the poetry. Finding the sublime in the mundane is her aim. Her work has been published in Curio Poetry, Mouse Tales, Red Wolf Journal, Long Story Short, The Book of Love and Loss and other anthologies.