Poem for My Icarus

we once fantasized
that we were
born feathered

always saw ourselves
with wings
with layers and wisps aflutter
all around
as we lifted off

assumed
that we could take with us
everything we always carried
expected our bones
to remain solid

forgetting how hollow
a bird actually is

and none of us noticed
that all birds land
eventually

today I saw you
still in flight
but with plumage rough as a wet hen
as you nattered on to the nestlings
that live on inside you

we were too young
to fly
when we laid the pills
upon our tongues and swallowed
with our heads raised toward
mother sky

in all these years
you have managed not
to come down to where we are

and you’re so tired now
I almost want to draw a bead
upon you and
fire

in the hope of offering some rest
hoping that your last feathers
will give you their long withheld comfort
as they fall soft around you
when you stretch out upon
hard and inevitable ground