“After the Wake, Gramma Ruth Communes with Her Beloved,” a poem by Ellen Kombiyil.

A butterfly; lost wishes.

Broad Street Magazine
“Birth, School, Work, Death”
3 min readNov 14, 2019

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“It didn’t flare like tissue or burn to ash but hovered many minutes …”

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After the Wake, Gramma Ruth Communes with Her Beloved

1.

“There in a jar, emptied of buttons —

mama put a butterfly

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after she flew it inside a warm oven.

It didn’t flare like tissue or burn to ash

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but hovered many minutes before falling

heavy toward the rack, wings

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the color of peacocks, green & black dots,

spotted head & looped proboscis.

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I’d wanted to stroke it, I think, the day

I laid mama to rest, legs like bent sticks

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perfect with bristling stillness

as if sealed in a gift shop paperweight.

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When I tilted it toward the rim — foot-caught

then sprung — it lurched

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as if alive again, then dust-ruined, stained

the linoleum. I scoured the oven

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needing to rid it of all the lost wishes

baked into birthday cakes devoured since.

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Mama taught me thrift, how not to want.

Each year she lit an extra candle for luck.

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2.

“Remember when we met — I wore a pea

green dress, my hair sprayed with Aqua Net.

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Mama had no pearls to lend me

& I’d taken down the hem myself.

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In the throes of summer, beyond the baby oaks,

your caged tomatoes still grow, although no one

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tends them. How you hated those store-bought pink discs,

refusing also mushrooms in your meat sauce

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because you don’t pay money for fungus!

It’s gone now, the hutch you made for the chickens,

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wood latch grooved with your thumbprint,

wire mesh dented where you leaned against it.

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Oh, Russ, you could fix anything

except the kitchen clock always did run slow.

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I’d be sifting flour for pound cake,

you’d be hollerin Ruth, c’mon let’s go

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and I’d rush flour-coated, hair falling in wisps,

get on a good dress, shoes, hose, my coat

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hung in the hall closet like forever,

you in the car fuming we’re going to be late

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for heaven’s sake, the cake half-risen on the counter.

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Ellen Kombiyil is the author of Histories of the Future Perfect (2015), and a micro chapbook Avalanche Tunnel (2016). Recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in DIALOGIST, The Moth, New Ohio Review, North American Review, and The Offing. She is a two-time winner of the Mary M. Fay Poetry Award from Hunter College, a recipient of an Academy of American Poets college prize, and was awarded the Nancy Dean Medieval Prize for an essay on the acoustic quality of Chaucer’s poetics. She is a founder of The (Great) Indian Poetry Collective, a mentorship-model press publishing emerging poets from India and the diaspora.

Featured image: Hippolyte Lucas, Histoire Naturelle des Lepidopteres Exotiques, Paris,1835.

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