It would have been wise of you
to send away your son at night.
But in your own construction once again
you twist and bend and lose your chance
to be wise in every turn.
Immersed in cryptic diagrams
and secret trigonometries
you could not see that feathers,
wax, and muscles ripe
would not have been enough
for someone as young as Icarus
and as determined to escape a world
that kept him in a vast, labyrinthine darkness.