January 25, 2011

on not skydiving

I was right there at the airport, less than 200 dollars away
from rising into the clouds in the tiny silver plane,
tethered to a man who was willing to fall with me. The day
was perfect for flying – warm and windless – and the refrain
of the newly landed should have tempted, excitement
blooming from their cheeks. Yet I remained fixed to the earth,
tilting my neck back to photograph each descent,
happy to witness and congratulate. It was worth
it simply to stand there, proximate to these journeys. I knew
my own would carry me, with a sky as vast and blue.