[This poem was published in The Deronda Review, vol. 7 no.2, without the last two stanzas.  Below is the complete version. -- The Editors]


Birgit Talmon




Must be mad…

But no – no going back

It's up, up and away now

Twelve thousand feet

While I stare into thin air.


The signal sounds

But just a minute 

I mean…how?


No time for buts

Out the gaping door I go

Into a tandem jump.


And  my, oh my

I can fly

Like a bat on a breeze

Well – almost at least.


Flat on my stomach

Arms playing wings

I feel

The mighty magnet

Of Mother Earth

Urging me back

Where I properly belong.


Well knowing that this force of


Eventually will win

I want a few more moments

Just bird's eyeing

This spectacular speck of our



Parachute opening above

The free fall comes to a halt

Turning me back upright

No more pressure on my chest

No more thunderous winds

Engulfing my head

Only sheer dazzling, dangling


As all spells stillness.


Not yet within hearing range

Of ice cream vendors

Trudging along the shore

Ankle deep in sand

Oblivious of turquoise waters'


On which my eyes feast

I swing and sway.


Back in the bosom of Earth

I am still in the sky.