Untitled - Azam Abidov - poet and translator

ADAM RADFOLD
Adam grew up in Hong Kong and received his literature and
religion degree in the University of Southhampton. He has been
writing for about 15 years in journals. He writes mainly about the
small facets of life, simple connections, human experience of the
inside and outside world. He is a strong exponent of formed poetry
and tends to write in both free and sculpted verse.
For the Rumour of Icarus
There is a commotion in my kitchen
Like inventors in top secret laboratories
Who tinker at Daedalian engines, then freeze
At the murmur of a spy or sense
Of a cat burglar.
A burst of motion in my room,
A streak of mottled brown, a furore of feathers
God’s notice lapsed for a second and you
Whacked your head against the window pane
And fell there on the table, on your back
With your little legs up like bare brambles.
You woke just in time to see me stalk toward
And made a frantic pass, but this time you went black.
I worried that you had cracked your skull
And damaged some vital inner mechanism
I gathered you up in my massive human hands
That must have stank of carnivore, a god’s hunger!
The hand’s blood-walls about you like despair
Into which I murmured a hot humid prayer
To ward off children or those who mistake wax
For wings.
Then, I placed you alone;
Unmasked in the sun
To long for the rumour of Icarus.
120