In Envy of Icarus

by

Doug Larson

Into the rush of the day he flew
heedless of the wind,
no thought to gravity; the sucking earth
wheezing at the souls of his feet;
asthmatic geriatric four billion years old
and crumbling at the seams.
He felt his dreams, cold and wild
fill his famished lungs
as he remembered the gentle tug
of a warm summer's day. The child within him
wanting desperately to dance upon the breeze;
but finding the dull, mature sleep of reality
too compelling a partner.
All for naught it was,
for his dreams were forged of hardened steel
wrought in the furnaces of Hell,
and he was destined to fall from grace
like a riddled Stuka; a screaming burning ember
to bury himself in the crust of the Earth;
a repulsive pockmark on the smooth face of the world.
He stared up at the heavens with devastation
streaming from his charbroiled eyes.
His brittle body crushed into the mantle
in a metamorphic jumble, mouthing silent words
upon the deaf ears of his ancient and impotent Gods,
pleading vainly for mercy and another chance to fly
high above the clouds like a stratospheric bird.
And lo, he felt a certain lightness of being,
and looking down once more upon the earth
he saw himself crumpled and broken, far below.
The invisible hand of God was lifting him unto the Heavens;
placing gilded wings upon his shoulders, and lighter now
than even the air, in effortless flight, his soul did sing
as his body crumbled into dirt.
Oh, how I envy dear Icarus!
The way that he flew
swiftly on into the rush of the day,
heedless of the wind,
with not a thought to gravity,
and endless dreams, cold and wild,
to pave his way on into the endless void.

Submit a poem for analysis.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at A shy young woman from Kilcorney
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Doug Larson's poems, click HERE

Check out these deals at Amazon.com

...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities

To write us about this page,
contact willy@dreamagic.com (Willy Chaplin)