That Sound Poem by Patti Masterman

That Sound



I pulled the ripcord, and then a whole canopy
Of your blood splashed down over me

We flew too high I guess, and you forgot to touch down again;
Flew off, leaving behind all of your bones, and most of your flesh

While you held your tattered soul so high, by your teeth
To keep it from tangling, down on the ground

But what I'll remember forever's that sound.

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