In the Fleeting Moments

there's beauty

in the fleeting moments;

in the minute of golden light

dancing on the sidewalk

before sunset,

in the brief sound of rustling leaves

as the breeze whips through

and whispers softly,

in the soft brush of a kiss

 under the cold light of the city night

leaving behind tingling heat;

beauty captured

in memory

Icarus

upon my back they place

Icarus's wings and 

point out the sun;

blinded by brilliance,

I forget that there are 

stars that run through my veins

with dazzling potential

and instead follow

the others

of melting wax

to our end

Anchor

I've been told by many

that I'm an anchor,

holding people down

and keeping them

from drifting away

in sadness.

They mean it as 

a compliment,

they mean I am uplifting and supporting,

but I think they have forgotten

that anchors

are meant to be heavy,

and to do their job

they must be weighed down

with burden.