I don’t know what it feels like
to jump into the air from a plane
wearing nothing but a pack and chute
to float me to the earth.
Does it feel like wind on a swing,
like a car wreck you know your
going to have, or does it feel like
you know you are free to fly and float,
to drop into the abyss of blue and puffed white?
I know what it feels like to fall.
It’s like jumping without a pack
and chute, more like a wreck of
flesh to ground and bones crushing
into the reality of what’s below.
I know what it’s like watching a child
fall from a cradle, unable to catch
the infants blow. I know the moment
the wee head hits the floor. I wish it was mine.
I wish it when they are thirty or more.
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