–after Denise Levertov
All night I watched the bombs fly through the dark sky
like formations of red-beaked egrets, missing my window over & over again
desperate, their war cry
sounded more
or less.
Exploding from sky to sky, their wings clipped frantically at the edges
of embers.
Till they finally gave up, battered, wounded, fragments of feathers
fell like commas to the ground.
How cruel the night must look in our guilty eyes.