Gingerbread House Lit Mag

Sonnet for Icarus’ Older Sister Who Would Have Invented the Aeroplane Had She Not Been Married Off for Gold. Also She Can Divine the Future.

I fly with red-tailed hawks over fields of asphodels, a dream too soon
to wake from. Doomed to babies & brushing my hair. O sweet Icarus
boy who runs slowly, loves the pull of earth & his feet planted, collects
lavender & sage, mint to balance the body’s humors, women’s work
that would bring him shame—instead we’ll pay for our father’s sins.
Late at night, the house quiet, Icarus teaches me what he’s learned.
How I love him, his head of curls. I have studied well & these books—
poetry, geometry, though father must never know what I have learned.
Imagine landing in a meadow of orange scrub, navigating wind pressures
& fluctuations, kalos eidos shapes shifting in my mind, triangles, rhombi—
If I were allowed, I’d build a flying bird to save my brother. I can imitate
the lift of eagles & want to soar. Look at me! Brown hair, bold chin, fiery
amber eyes. I am disappeared from history. Lachesis, Clotho, Atropos
must you cut his thread? This boy, terrified of heights, not an ingot of pride.

Alicia Elkort

Alicia Elkort’s poetry has been published in AGNI, Arsenic Lobster, Black Lawrence Press, Georgia Review, Heron Tree, The Hunger Journal, Jet Fuel Review, Menacing Hedge, Rogue Agent, Stirring: A Literary Collection, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, as well as many others. Her poems have been nominated for the Orisons Anthology (2016), the Pushcart (2017/2019), and A Best of the Net (2018), and she placed third in the 2019 Poetry Superhighway contest. Alicia reads for Tinderbox Poetry Journal.

Artwork: Brooke Shaden, seasons changing

This entry was published on January 31, 2020 at 12:08 am and is filed under 40 (January 2020), Archive, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.
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