Until I Remembered My Name Was Icarus – Meg Yardley

Dizzy sun-feathered flyer, I
soared above the cold rooms
of the grey city

along the gold-dreamed length

of light. The ground fell away
beneath me, eclipsed
by the day-star rising:

that fever, spiral-armed

and spreading, blinding all color
into ashes, bright
behind my eyelids.

Tongues of wind

drove me onward or upward
into the hot fugue,
the silk-volumed swell –

until I remembered

my name. Language returned
next. In panic I clutched
at the nearest current. It slipped

through my fingers with a sigh.

The thousand-faced air
spit me out. Below:
the flat sea, the tethered tides.

Meg Yardley

Meg Yardley lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her work has recently appeared or is forthcoming in publications including Rogue Agent, SWWIM, Bodega Magazine, Literary Mama, and District Lit.

1 Comment

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Emily Santiagoreply
February 24, 2020 at 9:42 PM

Beautiful Meg!

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