Today's poem is by J. P. Dancing Bear
On Falling and Failing
If Icarus were to speak, he'd kvetch
about long hours of labor over feathers
and wax, listening to Father drone on
about the very nature of quills and paraffin
and where wind and birds originated.
The boy would share his dark fantasy
of proving the old windbag wrong
jumping up and shouting, Ha!,
you don't know everything, Dad!
and the overwhelming sadness
he felt to harbor such thoughts,
which have been bested in depth only
by knowing the old man was,
in fact, right. The underworld
is a naked bed of information, statistics
sheet the skydoubt is food for the living.
His famous half-minute of descent
is not as vivid to him as the sight of Father
circling for a final fly-by and shaking
Copyright © 2006 J. P. Dancing Bear All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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