MindFlights Feature - Icarus Falling Still

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Icarus Falling Still

Rosalind Casey

(A Student Contributor)

Poetry
Fantasy

Icarus flying and Icarus falling
Feel just about the same
Air whips his face, tugs his joints
His stomach gathers in a clump
His arms keep flapping
Blistered with wax
And he recognizes fear
By the sloshing sounds inside his chest
The bubbling scream inside his throat
Just another new sensation
Adrenaline and dirty nails
Anxiety and long horizons
A bright and sudden world beyond the maze
The ground approaching still seems far away
There is no moral of the story here.

It's not Icarus who carries on
Bringing news and telling tales
Not Icarus who carries on
(It's years before the giggles, jokes
First words, remembered arguments
Aren't drowned by flapping wings)
Morals are the care of priests, of poets
Of fathers who must circle back and strain their eyes
Looking for a melted pile of blood and bone
And feathers.

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Copyright 2009, Rosalind Casey. All rights reserved.

Rosalind Casey hails from Texas but attends school in the Freezing North. Her work has appeared in print in The San Antonio Express-News and The Houston Chronicle, and online in the poetry webzine Goblin Fruit and previously in MindFlights.