Parachute


She would never have jumped alone and seeing
the world like an immense crevice she might
have abandoned the tandem jump if the
instructor hadn’t had Greek god genes. He
smiled at her reassuringly, she nodded
and they were off, her fear turned to delight
with the motorcycle which gravity
had given them. She approved his delay
in pulling the cord. Then she realised he
was pulling the cord. She’d picked Icarus
instead of a god. “Keep calm,” he yelled. Next,
more quietly, “Sorry.” She scanned the ground for
haystacks piled ten high. She looked up and caught
a glimpse of the plane, a mocking feather.