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Trail of Smoke

A Widow’s Story

By Kathryn BrownPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke,

Don’t look now

The plane’s just there

Sans her tail and gear as well,

Do you think the pilot choked?

The day was clear

Or close enough, three clouds

A bird and the whole damn sky.

Stay in the middle of the air, kids

The edges hurt!

Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke,

Don’t look now

The plane’s just there

A wing displaced and crew afloat,

Hope they’re a sturdy folk!

Those on the ground

They saw it first, the savage plight,

The nose tipped up, up to the sky!

But the tail it fell, fell fast

And on fire!

Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke,

Don’t look now

The plane’s just there

Or so it was until just now

It’s naught but roke.

That lucky shot! Oh that fool

He aimed just right with his

Simple tools, but all it takes

Was just that much and

Here she falls!

Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke

Don’t look now

The plane’s not there

She tripped and fell,

By a missile - choked.

A sweeping flag!

A grand gesture!

For those widows dear, two kids

A dog, the whole damn force!

To say goodbye to Sarge.

Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke

Don’t look now

The plane’s just there

Beyond the Heaven’s gate,

St. Peter’s hymns evoked.

Too soon too soon

So sad so sad

The Generals mumble now,

And off they go, they leave behind

The worst days yet to come.

Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke

Don’t look now

Another plane’s just there

In place of those who laid to rest

beneath the Chestnut Oak.

Those on the ground

They saw it first, that savage plight,

She took her shots to numb

The pain, but God!

Let this last shot work.

Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke

Don’t look now

The plane’s not there

To witness this

A widow’s death, self invoked.

So sad so sad

No Generals, flags or gestures now

Too soon too soon

The Sunday paper read above the baseball score -

Another win for the visiting team.

Down down down

A swirling trail of smoke

Don’t look now

Their plane’s just there

From her neck,

her misery unyoked.

sad poetry
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About the Creator

Kathryn Brown

Find more at www.heykanb.com :) thanks in advance for the visit!

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