by: Chris Fradkin

we rode the wind,

up along the sandcliff,

down along the coast,

riding the eddies like a skate-

board. then billy lost his feather—

[i watched him as it happened]

he turned around and saw that he

was falling—

falling in slow motion,

his face filled up the frame,

like when we drank that soda

down at maury’s.

/ for Angela Roust /