Carried Home
I am cradled in the silent rush,
the feathered threads of his white wings
straining toward bliss.
Hovering sentries singing me safely through~
with the beating of their wings.
And the heart of the white bird carries me
home without so much as a whisper.
By Teri H Hoover, June 20, 2011
To find out more about American writer/photographer Teri Hoover’s work follow this link to her website.
The Reverse Icarus
You defied gravity and flew
the air currents, pulled to the sun
by wings whose membranes melted
and whose feathers floated on thermals
away from your fevered fingers
grasping, while your body, rejected
by Helios, plunged oceanwards
pulled to the water by the gravity
you defied, netted by Poseidon.
You dove, arms – once stretched to frame
wings – reaching to cool scorched
fingertips, reaching for the salt sting
wetness of water to drown your thirst for flame.
If you would like to read more of Margo’s work, click here to visit her website, Wordgathering.
