Your Poetry Dot Com - Tail Gunner

Array ( [sid] => 36980 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Tail Gunner [time] => 2004-03-01 22:00:13 [hometext] => In World War II the air war was deadly, the most dangerous job was being a tail gunner. [bodytext] => My first night out in the lonely back seat
Ground disappears from under my feet
Watching for enemy all night all shift
I am the tail gunner I protect our ship.

Rotate the turret starboard and port
Check for exhaust flames none to report
Blackness is all that I wish to see
I know tonight it will never be.

Wind whistles through my bubble in flight
Mind numbing cold but still eager to fight
An enemy stalks just out of my range
Come closer, come closer to your final exchange.

He senses my trap and gives up the chase
This foe has no need to act in flash haste
He will again stalk these skies tonight
A tail gunner like me might fall in his sight.

Hours and hours searching the black
Occasionally buffeted by lights and by flak
I see our load drop returning the mail
Just one of the lurks of this job on the tail.

We send fear and death to the earth below
Can’t hear, don’t care, to hell they can go
Loosen stiff limbs a *glimpse* round the sky
Yawn, stretch, ***forget***…my time to die.
[comments] => 5 [counter] => 1748 [topic] => 57 [informant] => twinkletoes [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => war ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Tail Gunner

Tail Gunner
Date: Monday, 1st March 2004 @ 10:00:13 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: twinkletoes

My first night out in the lonely back seat
Ground disappears from under my feet
Watching for enemy all night all shift
I am the tail gunner I protect our ship.

Rotate the turret starboard and port
Check for exhaust flames none to report
Blackness is all that I wish to see
I know tonight it will never be.

Wind whistles through my bubble in flight
Mind numbing cold but still eager to fight
An enemy stalks just out of my range
Come closer, come closer to your final exchange.

He senses my trap and gives up the chase
This foe has no need to act in flash haste
He will again stalk these skies tonight
A tail gunner like me might fall in his sight.

Hours and hours searching the black
Occasionally buffeted by lights and by flak
I see our load drop returning the mail
Just one of the lurks of this job on the tail.

We send fear and death to the earth below
Can’t hear, don’t care, to hell they can go
Loosen stiff limbs a *glimpse* round the sky
Yawn, stretch, ***forget***…my time to die.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ twinkletoes

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