Icarus
the answer is
not the history
of flight but
a question of
wings a notion
born of desperation
and fright each
quill ruffled by
the delicate tongue
of air can
only reflect this
fortune a dream
but never a
tragedy the gift
of gravity’s denial
Written probably in 1985 or 1986, this is the first poem I titled “Icarus.” After lurking in a drawer for decades, it made its first public appearance here on the blog in December 2017.
Thanks for sharing, beautiful writing.
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Thanks very much.
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I canβt remember if I told you this but your Icarus poems inspired my poem Twisted Myths π
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Ah! π
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Love the wording: each / quill ruffled by / the delicate tongue / of air
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Thanks, Jazz. One of the few poems of my youth that sounds like me. π
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Geez, you’ve got my number today…I’m off to find a tissue β€
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The highest compliment! Thank you!
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1986? Jings! I hadn’t even thought of writing poetry back then.
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I could lie and say I was a child prodigy, but alas, I’m just aged.
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