Waxen Wings
Heavy mist clouds my vision,
obfuscates sunÂ
chills my laborious mountain climbÂ
to the summit
I believe the precipice will reveal truths
about life and death, love and loss
I breathe thin air, soak in weak rays
Icarus flew too close, but not I
Not today
Today I will my save waxen wings
for another climb
“Heavy mist clouds my vision,
obfuscates sun
chills my laborious mountain climb
to the summit”
That entire stanza has such an appropriate rhythm to it – it really suits the poem’s imagery! Wonderful!
Thank you!