Icharus Exposed

There are questions asked on warm winter mornings

Tell me dear, why is Atlas pictured with a globe on his shoulders

The ancients believed the world was flat

In such breath of thought, frozen in air, came Icharus

Knowing the history of aviation and the age of mountains

Why did the wax melt?

I have never been in a plane, my feet are never far from earth

But my soul has wandered high at night

Mornings I wake to find snowflakes in my bed

I am brought back from sleep by the telephone

Everyone needs the longitude and latitude to attain attitude

My mind has more down than my pillow ~ I don’t have an atlas

You could be doing better things with your time

Like being curled up next to me, trying to sleep when it hits

As you climb higher the temperature drops ~ you freeze

If you go farther there is no light, no oxygen, no warmth

I reach for the phone thinking this is somehow important

The Greeks were wrong he didn’t melt, He froze

Or maybe he burnt up on re-entry, ah but then he would disintegrate

And if he were frozen he would shatter into a million pieces

So many problems, but I know he didn’t melt and so did the Greeks

As my head hits the pillow, receiver in hand, a feather rises.Image

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