Oh, Icarus...

• Milena Skinner, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2021

I am falling, / Tumbling, / Hurtling
Into the wicked dark sea like a crow
That has been struck by a God's arrow,
My wings painted with fire and gold.
Oh, it burns! But never have I been so free,
Nor felt Apollo’s fiery warmth round me
Thus I am once again reborn —
A Phoenix rising from the still ashes
Into the rosy fingers of morn’.
Till, at last, he pulls me from the sea
And cradles me gently in his safe arms
To lull me into gentle slumber.
So fiercely and broken does he weep.
God of the Sun kneeling before me,
Shuddering as I heave long and deep.
And so I burn. / Brightly, / As though
I had never known what it was to live
Till I had touched the glorious sun.