Notice of absence from Tristan Robert Lange
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
Friends, I’m doing my best to keep up with comments. 😅 I’m still current on my own poems and first replies on others’ work, but this season has been a bit of a twister. Figured I’d drop a quick note so you don’t think I’ve vanished or gone flaky.
Read. Write. Rise. Realize. 🤘💀🖤
What is it like to fly?
Above, the sky is crisp,
Its icicle sun shimmers
Gloomy gray—
Another winter-wary day.
House, not what it used to be,
American arctic asperity—
Arrested development—
Is what’s left of the dream.
The ground—ice solid—
Stained crimson crude
From the fall.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, March 19, 2026.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Online) - Published: March 19th, 2026 09:12
- Comment from author about the poem: I’m now published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Online)
Comments1
A metaphoric Icarus fall of society in this poem. Interesting that as one climbs the atmospheric temperature drops and the sun becomes a distant light bulb giving off little noticed heat. That once warm value we held has cooled. It is winter in the land today. In this season nothing grows, frozen hard Icarus would have left a blood spot. Well written my friend a fave
Soren, I wrote this with that Icarus arc in mind, and seeing you name it so plainly…yeah, that rocks. Especially the idea that what once gave warmth becomes distant. That’s the space this came from. You truly understand metaphor, my dear friend…seeing you call Icarus out made my day. I also love the altitude frame you gave…that’s so very true. Thank you for meeting it there, my friend. ❄️🧊🖤🙏
Tristan your poems and those of half a dozen others are the main source of metaphor on this site and that is my favorite form. You are most welcome my friend it is always a pleasure
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