Bounding, leaping, skipping
Flying over free heathen
Ragamuffins.
Who stood there staring
At the sky, in the glaring
Sunlight.

We were free in a way
They were not
We held the skies
Because their lot
Did not
Know to fly.

We looked down
At their brown faces,
Staring.
They held a freedom
We did not. The countryside, the innocence,
A bigger purpose.

A life.

We flew fighter jets
Our death
Loomed in each corner
We’d die
That night,
Another missing
Flight
That’s all, they sighed.

Our plight.