Falling From The Wings of Icarus
No concrete posts double drilled with plumber's pipe of fence can halt, even in New England, the blocks of shade that topple toward the Park like dominoes of discontent, Nor keep from tumbling into Hades, the child dropped from the wings of Icarus. Here the scorched grass gasps beseeching pole shadows to stretch while stained glass notes pour from common wrens like chards from Dali's chisel, imploring time for time to mend and space for space alone. Down in the alley of the yellow-eyed cat, Daddy's shaken-off child wields the cord-cutting samurai of absence, bleeding into tomorrow, and I, hollow with loss,and guilt, and anger, smoke within the whirring fan in this season of the prom-less summer, this bad address, and squeeze my neck. Screwed down hard, by 8:00 P.M. the tincture of the sky is shelved. Soon the key will turn in the lock, and the druggist creep home to the lamplight, Hannibel crossing the Alps.with 1716, 16599 Written December 16th, 2001 © on Dec 15 2001 05:43 PM PST, Carole Dudley 0 • 18 • 1
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"No concrete posts double drilled..."