By Ellen Kombiyil
only time for stuttered verse one two caught
in my throat a half stop word how I wish
I were a full-throated bird the red not
on crest but as necklace with sound
that would reverberate the near dawn air
I’m thinking a spider’s web dew-hung near
ly dripping the whole world reflected in
verse like the eyes of a fly each bead
a separate picture and breathing tiny
globes circle back to themselves the large
and the small a shaken bough before
I finish I’m sunk quiet world of fishes
*
Ellen Kombiyil is a poet, writer, and writing teacher. Her first book of poetry, “Histories of the Future Perfect,” is forthcoming. Honors include a 2013 nomination for the Pushcart Prize, and a 2012 nomination for Best of the Net. She is a Founding Poet of The (Great) Indian Poetry Collective (www.greatindianpoetrycollective.org), which publishes first and second books showcasing new poetic voices from India. Originally from Syracuse, New York and a graduate of the University of Chicago, for the past 10 years lived in Bangalore. She currently resides in New York.