The Old Airfield

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THE OLD AIRFIELD

 

Over the flat space

Dry grass speckled with bramble, a couple

Of people in coats walk small dogs.

Two men and a boy

In baseball caps fly radio-controlled

Red aircraft in great lazy loops and dives.

 

Two generations have passed

Since this held Spitfires and uneasy laughter

While raw young men played dog-eared cards

Donated by some others not now named

And waited, not for long

 

School, training, first beer, first kiss, death

A story only missing the belief:

A job that with a churning stomach must be done

And the brief freedom of the veering skies.  

 

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2 Comments

  1. I found this very moving Simon…

    Reply

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