THE DESCENT OF ICARUS

It isn’t the descent of Icarus that astounds

As much as it is the gold burning off the waters

When he entered the sea door of his drowning

Into Eternity

I try to get out of my mind

Tangled with seaweed, urchins, surprised mermaids

Braiding each others hair with sea lilies suddenly looking up

The myths compounding one another

Diffused through many layered Time

But most of all it is dazzling to consider

His singed wings

Their sizzling in the water

Testament to his suffering

To what for a while was

His glory.

This is my Icarian story.

mary angela douglas 27 may 2024