("the pipes how many...")
LARRY EIGNER
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the feet of Icarus
on the ground
or in air
sometimes he doesn't like
the rain vast, even the shift
into the earth
growing trees, the sounds on them
bird
freedom
they take off as
roofs are level
leaves have some fingers
life feels
like
much of
one day
you know how many
deaths
where that fits
speeds such as hammer
themselves out
m
the birds
risen to a tree
their pattern the same
disappear
the sun among
cloud strips
shines
weakly enough
light encountered
we're blind
through each of us
the leaves distinct green
limbs
the process of colors
the birds have some shadows
wherever they are
different kinds
streak the sky
brief portions airs
Structure
43 lines · 12 stanzas