Ikaria
From afar light travels
like a bullet to the heart,
a mirror offered to the sun
catching me off-guard,
piercing the gauze noontide haze
to find its mark…
A child’s hand guides the blade of light
from that fraught, atavistic shore,
where a winged boy plummeted
to earth millennia before,
his torso glistening with molten wax,
his wings a golden swarm,
shards hovering about his form
like fiery butterflies.
Note: On the island of Ikaria, named after Ikaros, who is said to have plummeted into the Ikarian Sea that washes its shores, it has long been the custom for children in remote cottages and hamlets to beam heliographs to passing ships.
Heliograph
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103030500508
Свидетельство о публикации №103030500508
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