And What of Daedalus? (revisiting Brughel)
J.T. Ledbetter
Scrawny leg of Icarus, the color of a fish's belly.
Brughel shows nothing exciting. No leap into the azure sky,
no pas de deux above the labyrinthine world of deceit and love--
no blazing fan of peacock pride before dropping, incalescent,
into a soundless, rolling sea.
And what of Daedalus? An old man, garrulous in the pubs?
Does his advice spread like a stain from the corner
where they dance past him, having heard the story? Never mind them.
Let them go laughing and singing into the moonlight, drunk and in love,
Show us his foot still tapping, and the place where he carved, ICARUS!
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