Icarus Rising
Little boy with eyes of
cloudless-sky-blue.
Hands lifted to trace trails
in imagined aether.
Climbing, climbing, climbing,
a boy no longer.
His father, bent over his drafting table,
bringing forth mammoth birds
of titanium and steel.
His dreams haunted by man-made wings,
bearing him upward, ever upward.
Climbing,climbing,climbing,
a boy no longer.
Five-Ten-Fifteen-Twenty
academy, airforce, fighter pilot.
Dreams shifting, with sleepless nights
spent grasping for his future of flight.
Upwards, into the sky,surging forward.
Over mountains and deserts,
grazing his fingers against the sun.
Climbing, climbing, climbing,
a boy no longer.
Copyright © Priscilla Settanni | Year Posted 2020
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