The Fascination of What Disappears
by Gail White
Runner Up in the 2026 Poetry Life Contest
There must be something in us that accounts
for this endless fascination with Amelia
Earhart, the Titanic, or George Mallory
on Everest. Perhaps we still believe
that we might find out more about what happened:
islanders on a solitary shelf
of land, brought up on stories of a woman
who fell from the sky in a silver bird, became
their queen (or else perhaps was eaten,
but they saved the shoes). We dream of finding one
more cache of jewelry from the Titanic,
or Mallory’s frozen corpse, long overlooked.
Why write a hundred sonnets every year?
You want to be immortal? Disappear.
Gail White writes poetry on the banks of Bayou Teche. Her poem, "The Left Hand of Saint Teresa", won the Rhina P. Espaillat award from Plough Magazine for 2025. She loves being a contributing editor to Light Poetry Magazine.