Ron Carey Poetry
I fell and the weight of the wings pulled me below
Poseidon’s slated roof.
And went among the dead and rose again.
Some young men carried me to the shore
And cut the leather straps from my wrists.
All movement was pain but the sand was warm
And while they laughed and played, I slept.
Afterwards, they loaded my failure on a truck.
Rumbled in dark, we started for a town beyond
The slopes of Atheras.
Behind us, on a gleaming road, Night thumbed out
A pearl Moon.
Lying among the surfboards and the salted rubber skins
I cried, ‘Father, I am lost.’
Many weeks later,
When I found some feathers, black and kissed
By the Sun, I laughed and laughed and laughed.