Icarus
About To Fall
How is it
possible to climb
So far, so
high, so clear
Into this
acid-blue, cloudless sky
And to feel the
warmth
Upon naked back
and limbs
After so many
years
Of cold
confinement
Down there in
the dark
With dearest
Daedelus?
Who would not
wish to flee
From an unjust
captivity
Subject to
Minos’ punishment
For earth-bound
earlier sins?
Or desire to
end the pain of a father
Whose cautious
warning
Betrays his
fractious fearfulness?
And how may
mere wax and feathers
Fashion human
wings
That may lift a
sluggish body
Prising it from
the clutching fingers
And heavy
prisoning grip of Earth
To let it soar
and glide
And fly,
dazzled, towards Helios?
And why not
tempt the gods
By reaching the
height of eagles
Stretching
sinews
Facing the blinding
glare
Of solar
brightness?
Or glance down
towards the sea
To gain a glimpse
of Paros, Delos
And Samos far
below?
How close might
one fly
To the hot, burning
disc
That radiates its
vital force
Before being
forced to turn away
To avoid
tumbling from the heavens
Falling
headlong to a certain death
And perishing
beneath the ocean spray?
Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2015
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