Marks Air Force Base, 1958
I put in for Hawaii,
California. Instead,
they sent me to Alaska.
We were to monitor for bombers
with the help of four ghosts
on the mountain behind us.
They said we were heroes, protecting
America from Soviets. They called it
Cold War, but as far as I saw,
it was just cold. No one told us
what it was like to live
three months in darkness.
When the long night hit, we’d write
letters, play cards, shoot the shit.
But conversation has its limits.
We started drinking. Sleeping.
We felt forgotten. Some of us
stopped wishing for spring.
Do you remember that story of how
the cook went missing in a blizzard,
and no one knew what happened to him?
What I didn’t tell you was that
a week before, he’d quit eating.
He left a note in his locker.
You see now—there were
some cold, dark things
I protected you from.
Morrow Dowdle is the author of the chapbook Hardly (Bottlecap Press, 2024), the forthcoming chapbook Missing Woman (Charlotte Lit Press, 2006), and the forthcoming full-length collection Heartsick Requiem (Riot in Your Throat Press, 2026). They are a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee, and their work has been featured in journals such as Rattle, New York Quarterly, Southeast Review, Stonecoast Review, ONE ART, and others. A U.S. Air Force veteran and formaer physician assistant, they now work as a business manager and creative consultant for NC Public Art and run a performance series featuring historically marginalized voices. They are pursuing their MFA at Spalding University and live in Durham, NC.
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