"Icarus"
I cannot count the strange animals
Falling through my eyes.
One is not one.
A different one,
Just this morning at sunrise,
Had escaped.
He wore the bright orange of a convict still.
In no real hurry,
He walked away from the sun
Into the mountains,
Orion’s rock face.
His back was on fire,
And when the fire became wings
He flew.
–Donald Revell
from A Thief of Strings
