Glider Poem by James Andrews

From pots of glue and sheets of muslin,
Bamboo ribs,
I build a frame of wings
And strap them to my arms and chest.

I seek the highest promontory
In the flatness of this town
Then run full bore
Praying to the gods of Icarus.

At once the sky leaps up.
The earth falls down.
My fingers grasp at clouds.
An old world falls away.

There is a place below me you have been.
A place above me you will go.

Wind that hurries in my climbing
Crying hush
Is your slight voice
I've never heard.