(in memory of Dorothy Hoffner)
She flew out of a plane,
104 years young,
not her first sky rodeo—
she’d made her first jump
at 100—and wanted
to soar earthward again,
which she did, saying,
Let’s go. Let’s go, Geronimo,
diving headfirst, her instructor
tandem’d to her back, executing
a perfect forward roll before
freefalling to earth. She died,
apparently in her sleep, nine days
after her historic jump, not looking
for fame or to set a world record,
which she likely did—just to fly.
She said afterward that she’d
like to ride in a hot air balloon,
which might perhaps be her
next sky journey, rising slowly
in a wicker basket suspended
from a colorful envelope,
ascending with a great
whoosh of fire into
whatever comes next.
•••
(104-year-old Skydiver Dorothy Hoffner died Oct. 9, 2023.
She would have turned 105 on Dec. 17, 2023.)
Güd wrtr 
Wow. Simply wow. Both for Dorothy (may she be flying high) and for your poem.
“in a wicker basket suspended
from a colorful envelope,
ascending with a great
whoosh of fire into
whatever comes next.”
What a landing! May I be as brave.
Wow, Jan, I love this one. It feels like a prompt!
Wow, Jan, I love this one! It feels like a prompt.
Thanks, Louise! You’re most welcome to use it as a prompt, if you like! Loved being your roomie in Port Colborne and swimming with you in Lake Erie. I’m treasuring that trip… and you were such an important part of it!