Spring 1944 • Vol. VI No. 2 Poetry |

Dam Neck, Virginia

2. Anti-aircraft seen from a certain distance On a steely blue night say a mile away Flowers on the air absolutely dream-like, The vision has no relation to the reality. The floating balls of light are tossed easily And float out into space without a care, They the sailors of the gentlest parabolas In a companionship and with a kind of stare. They are a controlled kind of falling stars, But not falling, rising and floating and going out, Teaming together in efflorescent spectacle Seemingly better than nature's: man is on the lookout. The men are firing tracers, practising at night. Each specialist himself precision's instrument, These expert prestidigitators press the luminance In knowledge and in ignorance of their doing. They do not know the dream-like vision ascending In me, one mile away: they had not thought of that. Huddled in darkness behind their bright projectors They are the scientists of the skill to kill. As this sight and show is gentle and false, The truth of guns i

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