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Daedalus

His body burned mid-flight, and fell.
But I could not look back or stop
For fear of falling too, or worse —
Getting caught.
Not until I reached
The next isle could I stop and mourn
But by then sea wind had tears dried.
There was just me and a soft quiet,
Strange after hours of wind and waves
That’d kept me from hearing him fall
As well.
And now these years later
Each time I walk, drunk, by the beach
The sounds of waves crashing on sand
Remind me. Yes. They remind me.

Poetry by Sameen