Icarus! Icarus!
Leaning out
of a level six window
I balked and let slip an Ostrich
feather, it fell
fallow and slightly left,
a shallow breath was the most
I could manage.
“Make it seem a suicide”;
I heard from beyond
someone slightly left
of my left shoulder. Or so seemed
from the green
wall of monotony,
which of course my life
so rapidly resembled.
But the lavender seed we together planted
never took root, and the pseudo-attempts
on his life were little
consolation . Not exactly impressive
from a Bird’s Eye. Maybe the
rain
falls
clear and cleanses
the cataract of the surface.
The feather that skimmed
the
surface cracked the ice.
Christopher Bock, 2003.
