the fallen
on the smooth surface
of the Icarian
Sea
a fisherman hauls
in his net
and shudders to
find yet again
waxy feathers and
fragile bones
swimming with the
muscular
flesh of still
living fish
writhing and
squirming the frantic
mouths the
would-be screaming
the water greasy
with fear …
above, a sky clear
and blue
holding a sun
the light a whorl
all radiant with
innocence
blinding the
world askew
and deep down in
the turbid depths
of a black sea
floor the bottom feeders
are picking
clean the gleaming
remains of a fallen
star that at least once flew
that, at least
once, flew
