More ghostly poems today on Paul Brookes’ blog, and the images that inspired them.

The woman in white (again)

She always wears white.
No one would see, in the dark,
if she wore black.

And if no one
were to see
what would be the point?

Can you haunt
someone who doesn’t know
you are there?

Can you frighten
someone who doesn’t know
who you are?

And where does she go
in the daylight, when no one
would notice

her insubstantial transparency,
and waiting for night, how
does she fill up her time?

I wonder if such apparitions
of dead, virginal women
spring from guilty consciences,

only visible to men
who find it hard
to sleep at night.