To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph

 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.

Form: Sonnet

♡Like0

Share Comments