Ode to the Paratrooper

Like lightning about to strike, you wait, you sit.

With olive drab hopes, and gun oil dreams,

ticker taped in the torrent of air from the opened door,

left and forgotten on the floor as you leave.

The sky is a siren.

You jump through it and fall.

Over badges, and buckles, and boot polish, and starch.

You fly to the horizon,

with the promise of her call.

#literature #poetry #freeverse #military