leavings       a collection of left-over poems       John Bailey      

 

Blitz-krieg

More than sound and light,
darkness joins the show.
Smells of rancid burning
of ancient mortar ripped apart,
annoint dolmen-loomed shadows.

Breath stealing lung crushing
ear dulling thumps bounce
from earth to cloud and back.
A thousand screaming bomb fins
siren sightless through the night.

Searchlights finger-probe the sky
for hidden targets while banshee
flak-streams screech shrill fury,
streaming phosphored hate-lines
at droning aircraft floodlit from beneath.

Smoke rolls over London, shroud-soft
and binding, dulling the metallic pitter
of shrapnel rattling slates and streets,
collects the growing glow of house fires,
spreads news of random acts of war.

 

Somerset 1998

 

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