Finding Flight
Colchester High School student and sickle cell advocate publishes second book of poetry.
On a spring afternoon, between track practice and homework, you’ll almost always find Edonusem H.A.Y. Pomeyie writing or singing. Where varies. Sometimes it’s the living room floor. Sometimes it’s in class, mid-lesson. It’s wherever the feeling strikes. Then the words come.
A high school junior, Pomeyie is preparing to release his second book of poetry — a journey shaped by his experience with sickle cell disease, teenage struggles, racism and moments of joy and laughter along the way.
Born in Ghana, Pomeyie spent much of his early childhood in and out of the hospital. Pain crises — caused by misshapen red blood cells restricting blood flow — were frequent.
“Every few days, the hospital became my second home,” he recalls. “I grew up very in tune with my body, paying attention not just to physical strain, but to stress, frustration and emotion — all the things that can trigger me.”
A “Grounding Presence” During a Difficult Transition
When Pomeyie was seven, he moved to Vermont with his mother, Sefakor Komabu-Pomeyie, PhD, who now serves as director of intercultural excellence and lecturer at University of Vermont College of Nursing and Health Science.
The transition brought cultural, social and medical challenges.
At University of Vermont Health – UVM Medical Center, where he continued treatment, he found a grounding presence in Jenny Eddy, a child life specialist in the children’s specialty center infusion bay. They read, painted and talked together — not just about his condition, but about navigating a new place as a kid.
“Jenny’s been there since day one,” he says. “Growing up in a new place, she helped me understand who I am…how to be more resilient and how to help others learn from my experience.”
In the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic, his mother encouraged him to try writing as an outlet. At first, he resisted. Then a family friend offered a simple incentive: finish the book, and they would publish it.
At 12, he became a published author.
“He’s always been so inquisitive, with a story to share each time you see him,” says Heather Bradeen, MD, division chief of hematology and oncology at UVM Health – Golisano’s Children’s Hospital. “I learn from him each time I see him. His deep belief that things will be OK is infectious. He’s just wise beyond his years.”
Those moments helped anchor him through change — and created space for something else to take shape: his poetry.
To relate is to create,
Create from the relationships that teach you,
Teach you to be you,
Teach you to create from two,
Teach you to create for me and you
Teach you to find the sanity in the relationships you create.
Live, Love, Life: A Poetic Symphony from One’s Heart
Over time, Pomeyie’s work evolved. He began reading contemporary poets such as Kwame Alexander, Evan Wang and Amanda Gorman, while experimenting with form, rhythm and imagery. Early on, he returned often to birds.
Birds aren’t even my favorite animal. But when you see them, they’re free. Not tethered to anything. That idea — movement, possibility — shows up in my work, and in how I manage my illness.
When emotions build, he doesn’t suppress them. He writes.
“I won’t scream; I won’t yell. I just type. Whatever I’m feeling, the page feels it.”
His upcoming book, Live, Love, Life: A Poetic Symphony from One’s Heart, explores connection, faith and the meaning found in relationships.
“This life is worth living because we have people around us who are worth loving,” he says.
In Vermont, where sickle cell disease is relatively rare, Pomeyie often finds himself explaining his condition to classmates, teachers and even clinicians. It’s shaping how he thinks about his future.
He plans to pursue medicine, with the goal of becoming a pediatric hematologist. Still, he doesn’t see himself leaving his poetry behind.
“I’m an artist,” he says. “I can’t leave my art alone.”
You can join Pomeyie to celebrate his book launch on Monday, May 25th, at Phoenix Books in Burlington. More information available here.
