Combat Report

"Just then I saw the bloody Hun"
You saw the Hun? You, light and easy,
Carving the soundless daylight. "I was breezy
When I saw that Hun." Oh wonder
Pattern of stress, of nerve poise, flyer,
Overtaking time. "He came out under
Nine-tenths cloud, but I was higher."
Did Michelangelo aspire,
Painting the laughing cimulus, to ride
The majesty of air. " He was a trier
I'll give him that, the Hum." So you covert
Ultimate sky o air speed, drift and cover;
Sure with the tricky tools of God and lover.
"I let him have a sharp four-second squirt,
Closing to fifty yards. He went on fire."
Your deadly petals painted, you exert
A simple stature. Man-high, without pride,
You pick your way through heaven and the dirt.
"He burnt out in the air; that's how the poor sod died."