Amelia Redux 1937-2012:
A Pilot's Log

Lae, New Guinea

New Guinea's wrapped in brand-new green
Wing-clippin' peaks back-bone isle, west to east
I fling antenna to montane forest,
--An orchideous house--
Dew collects on wire flex,
Lemon "n" jet
Saxony Birds of Paradise
Homestead mossy conifers,
Send calls cracklin'
Like channel splatter
Up my copper line
Guilloched plumes emanate from avian brows,
Resemble blue contrails during flight
This Lockheed falls
To Lae's grassy runway,
A creature of sky
Imbibing dew

Purple hills minify, cant
To yellow rhododendron
Fronting 'drome clearway
Electra free-wheels past cocopalms
Toward Guinea Airways hangar
Shoves her nose inside canned cavern
I push cockpit portal,
Burst into perpetual sun,
Scuff down my flivver's aluminum wings,
Feel sizzle through Cat's Paws soles
Native men--mining laborers--fall-in
Near plane's port side:
Bare-chested, wear fine-spun
Lap-laps 'round waists, 
Stare up at me as I exit craft
Some flaunt peroxide-bleached hair,
Tuck sigaret behind ear,
Adorn biceps with circlets of twine
Junkers G31's--uber cargo planes--
Retained by Bulolo Gold Company,
Grovel gravel tarmac,
Make daily airlifts of equipment
To hinterland gold fields:
Milk-cow, tin-lizzie, stallion, bucket-dredge,
Are lowered by crane
Into chamfered-metal fuselage
Rice, tobacco, tinned mackerel,
Sacks of betel nuts,
Jam freight-holds
Under Tri-motor's cabin 

I perambulate sedgy taxiway:
3000 foot east-west plank,
Pried from jungle implacable
Cross-winds cleave lane,
Junkers motors crank-up in distance,
Engines belch then settle,
Into chortling measures
Lae's strip dead-ends cliff-side,
Eroded reefs stair-step down to waves
Churned by westering current
I look past overhang,
Across Huon Gulf toward horizon,
California's site-rich coast
Lies beyond Pacific's mega blue-curve:
Fog City Presidio,
U.S. Destroyer Base, San Diego,
San Nic Island's secret airfield,
All prime targets of Japanese 4th Fleet 

Twelve hundred gasoline gallons
Seep through chamois filters,
Slosh down Electra's funnels,
Lade wing, bulkhead, fuselage tanks
I sally plane perimeter,
Inspect belly panels, fairings,
Pitot tubes,
Check wheels for drift on the hub,
Pause for photos at open cargo door
Jacobs of New Guinea Gold Company,
Poses beside me in morn glister,
Murmurs, "Radiance's-an outpour
Of circumference,"
Presses pyrite disc into my hand
I jump rivet threshold,
Latch door,
Hop main spar,
Ease to pilot seat,
Observe lads in flaxen suits,
Snappin' pics on apron
Brimful Electra
Trundles east down runway,
Throttles forward
Smoke-bomb on margins
Sheds fumes,
Signals middlemost
We bounce air at seaward end,
Sink over ziggurat scarp,
Drop to six feet 'bove water
Plane's propellers worry waves,
Conjure-up hisses of spray
We rise 100 feet
--Note cadre of fishing boats
Treadin' three-mile limit--
I pull in landing gear,
Climb to 8,000 mark

Laura Stickney

photo from 1.bp.blogspot