Near Howland Island
Near Howland Island
by Stacy Post
The day they discover Amelia Earhart,
the roots of all mysteries will unravel.
Fuselage, water logged goggles,
what stories will her bones tell?
Some things should never be
uncovered, never be revealed.
Maybe she wanted to disappear
into a vacuous sky?
If all questions were answered,
if every lost person was found, what then?
Maybe rumors stalked her–
foretold of too much celebrity,
too much time under society’s cloud.
I imagine her entering her bliss
at full speed. She fixes her eyes
to let in the light. The fuel gauge
hammers on empty. The morning
sun sparkles off the deep waters.
Questions remaining:
how far, how long, how high?
-refers from “She fixes her eyes to let in the light” in Shall I Go Up? by Cary Briel.
Love this, Stacy! It made me think about how her/our bones will only be able to tell part of our stories, how the rest will always remain a mystery…except in/to our imaginations.
I should have you talk to my students about simple and effective lit analysis
Thanks for reading it, Madeline! Glad you enjoyed it!
Jessie, that would be an interesting conversation, no doubt.
There is a particular place in my heart for effective poetry which includes famous people of the 20th century. Thank you for this one.
Thank you, Dan! My pleasure!
wonderful
Very nice Stacy! This is an evocatave and respectful piece about a such a compelling public figure.
Thank you, Paige and Jennifer! I appreciate the read!