Consider Icarus, pasting those sticky wintgs
on,
testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade,
and
think of that first flawless moment over the lawn
of the labyrinth.
Think of the difference it made!
There below are the trees, as
awkward as camels;
and here are the shocked starlings pumping
past
and think of innocent Icarus who is doing quite
well:
larger than a sail, over the fog and the blast
of the
plushy ocean, he goes. Admire his wings!
Feel the fire at his neck
and see how casually
he glances up and is caught, wondrously
tunneling
into that hot eye. Who cares that feel back to the
sea?
See him acclaiming the sun and come plunging down
while his
sensible daddy goes straight into town.