Flying at Great America

My attempt for day 25 of the 2011 April PAD Challenge.

Pulled from the Earth by a single bungee cord,
I clutched the purple harness wrapped around me
as faces became blurry specks, their shouted
words carried off by the park’s commotion.
The concrete below had never appeared
so menacing as it did from above.

Two hundred feet later, the apex of my
ascent, a stillness followed suggesting
possibilities that turned every creak
into a crisis. All I heard up there
was wind. My friends below couldn’t hear if
I screamed, not that I could’ve through clenched teeth.

The woman below with the megaphone
says “3, 2, 1, go!” I slip shaky fingers
through the metal loop and tug. It releases.

I fall fifty feet
in a single second–
limbs flail for support–
the ground zooms at me–
then the wind catches me–
it cradles me back
and forth as faces
below shrink and grow–

Critique

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