Flying

Spectacular miracle
that has me,
some preposterous trick cyclist,
(one of those who, alone,
are perceivers of
their infinite insignificance),
a treader of clouds.
Hurtled from coast to coast,
catapulted on an invisible
zip-wire of blind faith.
The grey Atlantic
shrugs and heaves,
as I escape my destiny
by the skin of my teeth.