Shadowy shutters, dissected frames,
drizzle twisting through twilight day.
"Here they come!"
thundering through damp cloud,
slicing chimney smokes drifting shroud
See pilots eyes above each house ,
Messerschmidt rotating in flames,
someone screamed out mother's name
as they dived for cover.
Criss cross vapor trails icy skies
Shop girls lovers hide in alleys.
Out front a tally - artifacts messily arranged,
twisted metal from a bullet holed plane,
blackened goggles, all that remained
of a parachute cord stained I.D.
photo, of wife with pink cheek child,
portrayed in a scene from the Frankfurt fair.
Later boxed,strewn round the janitors room
among polish, cleaning fluids, hardware.
Picked up,idly thrown in bin
by keen new broom with Brylcreemed hair,
vacant stare, small mustache.