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 realized 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.
-- David Beach (1959- ), Wellington-born prize winning poet, and mail sorter at the Australia and New Zealand postal services.
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