At 165 miles per hour, I closed my eyes
Relaxed my belly against your backbone, took a deep breath
Thighs pressed taut against your hipbones,
Felt the tight curl of my fingers against your ribcage, loosen
unfurling in your jacket pockets
Released it all to trust -
Surrendered.

When I opened my eyes next, I saw the ground sideways
Asphalt black and slick with mist, slipping past
Inches from my lowered lashes
But it held no fear for me -
All was peaceful.

This memory resurfaces, years later
On the slow descent from his funeral service
When the turbulence takes me.
My sweat-crowded brow battling the surge of nausea
I close my eyes, and relax into it
Swallow bitter fear and pain with the stale tang of coffee
Surrendering to something greater than myself.

These are the moments
I've learned
to let go.