We slammed down 3000 feet Into a ground haze And split the Heinkels into a broken mass Of flashing wings and slow-twisting fuselages. Burnt powder swirled Sharp into the air between me and the dash; A wing turned slow in the circle of my ring sight. Smoke poured back in a fantastic festoon Far down a clear sky . . . . Then a thousand-pointed star filled the whole heavens and the universe. The rebels saw my ship Burn its screaming way Like a plummet Into the snow gulches Above the city of a thousand dead. The rumble of the artillery paid no attention. |