Bright orange red, it’s billowy
flames explode from the surface of the sun. Daedalus warned me and I am careful
not to get too close. A million degrees, it mesmerizes me as I fly on,
perspiration on my brow, the twine and feathers beginning to smolder as the wax
on my wings starts to melt. I must turn away. My father was right as usual. I
must break the trance before it’s too late as the wax dissolves. The fiery
orange glow holds me in its grip. I am forsaken.
Wait a minute I’m daydreaming.
It is only an orange in my fruit
bowl!
Jim
April 2020
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