Letting Go Crouched under the wing, Hanging tightly to the strut, The only thing I notice is the wind and cold sweat. I’ve been assured the static line will open the parachute. I can see the instructor hanging out the door, Of the small propeller plane, Using aerodynamics to defy gravity, A couple thousand feet above the ground. His mouth is moving, Something about, “Let go, let go.” Clinging to the metal strut, I wonder why I am in this position, I wonder what is going to happen, If I let go? How many times have I been here? Asking Julie to prom, Stressing over a presentation for four hundred people, Sleepless nights deciding on firing a good person that is in the wrong job. That’s the thing about letting go, It’s so much easier after you’ve done it.