Poem: Blue

Many people don’t like the idea of “jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.” But, as my dad once said in reference to his paratrooper days, “There’s no such thing as a perfectly good airplane.”

Personally, I have a fear of heights, but I’m also a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I enjoy high ropes courses and rock climbing, and I’ve even been parasailing and paragliding. Perhaps one day, I’ll get the chance to go skydiving. But it is not this day!

Once again, I borrowed this prompt from Julia Garcia’s blog Drops of Inspira. This time, I borrowed the prompt “the color blue” from February.

 

Blue

I’d almost forgotten
the sky was that color
                        once

back when I was a child
somersaulting in the grass
wondering what it would be like
                        to fall up

until I couldn’t take the thought anymore
and wandered to where
a servicemember stood
                        in his uniform

Do you know which one
is my dad?
I asked, watching the parachutes
drift down
                        like helicopter seeds

Kid, I wear glasses,

not binoculars.                

He had a point.
I shuffled back to the
bleachers and sat by Mom
until the last of the parachutes
                        deflated

now I wonder
if we’ll ever get a break
from this popcorn ceiling of gray
and what it must be like
                        to touch the blue

one day, perhaps,
I’ll find a clear day
to strap on a chute and board
a plane with the sole purpose
                        to find out

 

***

 

Let’s chat! What did you think of the poem? If you had the chance to go skydiving, would you?

Similar poems: Gold, Pine Trees, and Goodbye Again