he taught you how to build your own; your spite
was your poor nephew’s only oversight.
You couldn’t bear to be the second best:
the night before he put it to the test,
you sabotaged the engine: its gears jammed
over the Acropolis. Before he slammed
into the rocks below, Athena, who
values inventors, rescued him. He grew
feathers in freefall and his intellect
migrated to his claws and beak; he pecked
the ground all day, afraid to nest in trees
or fly above them. Look, the indices
of your betrayal linger. Watch her hide
her eggs in hedges, always terrified
of heights and knowing what she can’t recall,
that your resentment made her forebear fall.