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Daedalus Again
A sound was heard
one summer's early even
while tending my mind's eye
'twas such a horrid thing
the passing of a bird
transfixed upon reflections of the sky
a mere skylark passing by
she fell to me on broken wing

the pain.. the pane of glass remains
to her
invisible - invisibly,

a life was lost
this summer, so late upon our day
while tending her life, spry
on reflection, she was indeed

such a very nimble thing!
this sweet aerobatic bird
who etched life so deep and wide
into the raring sketchbook skies
this mere pretty, little painted skylark
passing, passing by - a charged brush
of all life's colours, fully fleshed and
falling from the sky, too soon
she falteringly fell to me on halting wing

and life, the life of her remains
to me yet
exalted, in exultations!

"Daedalus again" I thought..
and then I thought I saw her breathe
but sang she "it was but the wind" I thought
then her spirit, left from me, frolicked away in fun
and flew high into the afternoon's shrill ocean breeze
I thought still more upon her legacy
What could be next? I pondered long..
could she now and ever quell the sun?

Oh, such poor raven's morsel
insensate token of a life that's gone
young and noble in her last
she died brave and fast, and not a tear
not a drop to end her dawning year

it is what so oft' becomes of one
who flies too fast toward a sun
be it hanging majestically above our heads
with such vainglorious flame,
or mere cousin
its reflection upon any gilded pane
regardless..

a thing is dead and so
I just might as well lay blame
at the feat of Daedalus again
Copyright © Ben Kross

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