This week I planned to explore the prompt at Poetry Thursday, but events at work upset my timetable for the week, so I am posting an existing poem, along with a photo of the memorial that inspired it. Come to think of it, it's a wall. So maybe this post is about walls that talk to me after all!
Icarus greets me each morning
still falling headlong
into a sea of flowers.
Lichen tips his feathers gold.
At my desk I tally numbers
while planes take off overhead.
At noon I walk past rows of flags –
the koru, the kangaroo, the golden bird
tethered to a pole.
I want to fly almost too close to the sun,
see temples and monuments,
marketplaces, beaches and jungles.
I want to return and put on my life
like a shabby old coat
and find how warm it is,
Icarus in bas relief on a memorial to airmen of the second world war: "to those who flew and fell". It is situated near the approach road to Christchurch Airport, and I pass it on my way to work.