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TALL POPPY SYNDROME – poetry compt. entry 2016

August 26, 2016

Tall Poppy Syndrome


You think he is Icarus

so your gaze is burning


the wax from his wings.


Eyes, half blind,icarus_falling_by_rockgem-d3eil8m

watch him falling,


Feathered outwards,


towards the ocean

of spit

From your forked tongue.


You have grounded the sky.

Tears from his eyes are dropping,


with the sunset as it melts on his palms.


He looks on water as it runs

down life lines and wonders,


How beauty and misery intertwine on his skin.


You have taught him that’s all that he is.

Beauty and misery and melted sunsets

And wings.


But his dreams are mythic

And in those dreams he is learning,


to be deaf where you learnt to be blind.


You think he is Icarus.

Icarus was brave, fearless.


You told him he couldn’t fly

So he’s climbing,


His own stairway to dawn.


While you are below, only watching,


Burning the wax from wings

He’s rebuilding with steel.


© Susanna Elliffe


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