“Further on Bruegel’s Icarus”

With waxwork wings a moment fell
through air and space, from blue to blue,
a drop of water then unmarked.

Cross calm blue sea we then sailed on
with goods to sell and men to meet,
and pay to make, and drink to buy,
No time: we have a schedule to keep.

I feel the heat of summer fade
with every laboured step I take.
A field to till, a family fed.
No time: our livelihood to make.

(( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Landscape_with_the_Fall_of_Icarus ))