Gail Thomas


She tried to fly when she fell in love
++++++with Mary Martin as Peter Pan,
visible harness and all. Jumped off rocks,
++++++then trees. Only one broken
bone to show for suspended disbelief.
++++++Dreamed of wings sprouting
from shoulder blades, toes webbing like
++++++the swan brothers in Anderson’s tale.
She would be one of them, willed herself not
++++++to bleed, to stop breasts from budding,
hips from curving. Not the sister on shore,
++++++sewing nettle coats with bloody
fingers. She would not be sentenced to earth
++++++with one wing.

Gail Thomas

of Northampton, Massachusetts, has published three books of poetry: Waving Back, which received Honorable Mention at the New England Book Festival; Finding the Bear; and No Simple Wilderness. Her work has appeared in many journals and anthologies, including The Beloit Poetry Journal, Calyx, Hanging Loose, and The North American Review.