-Cape Cod, Massachusetts
Dead into a wall of wind, they cliff jump
with parabolic wings curled over pilots
cradled in goose down and canvas.
Hands on control wires raised toward heaven,
they spiral thermals with red-tailed hawks,
arcing from Marconi to White Surf,
soaring until wind rush and ocean chill
sap strength, practiced pilots nailing gymnast
landings on two feet, novices descending
like leg-splayed colts, kicking into scrub oak
and stunted white pine, lines tangled,
sails shredded, my doctor-mind reviewing
first aid for fractures and shock, wishing
I had latex gloves, admiring their guts,
the casual way they cast their fates to the wind.
