A raven’s pinion from death’s immaculate aim.

Out of the cloud she comes, angelic and assertive.

Stand and watch. Listen for the sound of courage.

Watch again, how she falls, noble and concerted.

Sky and water turn her bones, like sun, swaying

Through old reels of black and white movies.

Her yell from a distance was unmistakable.

She was the colour of air, the colour of sea.

2 thoughts on “Spitfire

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