by Caroline Ball

Those waxen wings
Born of a father’s best-laid plans
Weaving some ethereal scheme
From an old man’s foolery

And you –
Borne aloft on fragile fancies
Revelling in your flight
Your freedom
As kingdoms and cities and mountains and oceans and temples and tombs
Pass beneath you
Sky-born
Godlike
In the twinkling of a wave

But a moment’s distraction
A splash of sunlight on dark hair
The heart leaps
And suddenly, gravity.