Icarus imitated the golden plover,
Drawn toward a blue folly
Above, looping through echoes
Of a boy’s prankish laughter,
Through an airy labyrinth
Of conjecture. A lifetime
Ahead of Daedalus, with noon sun
In his eyes, he outflew the bird’s
Equilibrium, wondering how this
Small creature of doubt braved
The briny trade winds. Surely,
In a fanfare of uneclipsed wings
Driven by dash & breathless style,
He could outdo the plover’s soars
& dares. But he couldn’t stop
Counting feathers against salty sky.
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