Streaks in the Sky

Two jets streak through the sky,

Over thud ridge two technocrats,

with a dangerous mission to try.

Both will learn cruel facts.

They fly close side by side,

to make one blob,

for the radar eye,

to do one is a tuff job.

Someone down below,

locked on the blob,

and let a SAM* go,

and the ‘troincs did its job

Throw the dice,

Which one gets hit, your bet.

The choice is not nice,

As each dances with death.

The choice is made.

It’s now a cold fact.

One family has a grave.

But I got my father back.

Red poppies,

for the blood lost.

Red poppies,

what is the cost?

Here’s that part for me,

that would be hard to do.

The next day you see,

he was a part of another two.

The day before your wingman’s dead.

Now, you have to do your task.

You must put his death out of your head,

but you ask, “Will this day be my last?”