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Poem

Once upon a time but not right now or ever
A parachutist climbed the short oak tree
On private property not yours or mine
The sign read, “Trespassers will be shot
on sight”  (sight unseen)

Our flying man used fingers on both hands to climb
8 of them plus 2 thumbs as I'm reminded of the crime
All hands are innocent until proven guilty
Tree/land violators will be considered flying legal
If found rising to the sky with parachutes behind them

At the top he stopped, having nowhere else to go
Using skills but not his knowledge for jumping off  
Like superman on hypnotic kryptonic drugs
That could lead to harder drugs
Or landing like a block of lead in mud                                                                         
             
His hands stretched out pretending to be wings
The chute forgot to open or to chirp or work
Because chutes are not birds and they don't chirp
Rip cords don't pull themselves
Parachutes don't deploy from tops of trees
We hear someone yelling “Geronimo!”
While leaping between the leaves and forest 

It was not a question of technology for the man 
Perhaps the tree or ground got in the way of progress
Distances can cause misunderstandings about the land
Sound judgment and adjustments are required
Part of the calculus of jumping from above

He ended up where he had come from
Face down in the mud where he belongs
Not jail where you might suppose for trespassing

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