analyticstracking
Poetry

First Skydive

Leather cap and gloves,
a jumpsuit,
plane laboring
up.
My heart pulses.
Still calm, though below Lake Taupo
stretches like a mouth
and the earth falls away
in colored smears.
Goggles on, hooks clipped,
the thin, clear door rolls back.

Two bullets tear free at 9,000 feet.

Climbing still, now nothing to stop this
chilled air, the ledge,
abyss over
death;
I cling back, terror clutching,
shudder at the drop,
then the

hurtle

off the lip.