2012/06/20 § Leave a comment
On the theme of Amelia Earhart
Flying along the line of sun
I slice the sky, determined, metal.
Over the water, low-lying clouds,
flat, dark, that mimic unmapped islands.
Or I mistake misty islands for the shadows
of clouds. So many, dotted like pearls.
Above me, beautiful empty azure.
I feel I’m traveling to the dock
of before. I must be on you but
cannot see you. Fuel is running low.
Electra through the clouds parts
not-my-own shadow but earth, trees,
a wrecked steamer, signs of near
distant, near future habitation.
Ellen Kombiyil is a native of Syracuse, New York and a graduate of the University of Chicago. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Beloit Poetry Journal, Cider Press Review, Eclectica, MiPOesias, Sojourn and Spillway, among others. She is currently working on the manuscript for her first book. She lives in India with her husband and two children.