He has wings
they are shades of grey,
they are beautiful...

I see him flying
like a spot across
the sun

no Iccarus,
this boy...
no melted wax
to disappoint me...
no falling
to the sea

he glides
and comes back to me
again
and again,
wraps
his shimmer-wings
around me
like a deep
grey blanket

no Iccarus,
this boy...
no foolish dreams,
he loves me....

11/01/2001

Posted on 11/01/2001
Copyright © 2026 Vikki Owens