Icarus 

What follows upon the land, 

Of wonderous amazement, 

Its sallow shores of beach and craft 

And sunkissed blobs of bleached flesh scant? 

The silent logs of dried sogwood alay in salts, For gulls to perch

and preach their throatless song of woe, 

Of glacier melts and slicks in tow. 

Eternal seascape warnings glide 

Just over wave then up to sky 

Where proudfeathered Icarus once 

dared the distant orb of heat condascend 

To bleed faint scan of success

upon the melting brow of man,

While ecstatic wax of mind falls glueless 

Into crashy laughing sea, 

crystalline blue of truth's epitome.