the end of his triumph

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end, or the marriage fails and
people say they knew it was a mistake, that everybody said it would
never work. That she was old enough to know better. But anything worth
doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean> on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that anyone could tell you they
would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed like a visitation, the
gentleness in her like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back through the hot stony field
after swimming, the sea light behind her and the huge sky on the other
side of that. Listened to her while we ate lunch. How can they say the
marriage failed? Like the people who came back from Provence (when it
was Provence) and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell, but just coming to the
end of his triumph.