You were cunning and bold,
daring to do what no one would.
You lived on the edge
and liked the view.
You would stand there
bracing yourself for the cold,
the wind at your back,
whispering that it was time to go,
so you went.
Like some incredible bird,
you took flight.
Your body embraced the mountain,
your arms opened wide as if you wanted it to accept you.
You and the mountain became one,
one in flight.
In memory of Wallace Westfeldt, 1986-2008