The Dogfight Sonnet

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Tremendous force has bound me to my seat
And breathing has become a practiced skill.
With tightened gut to keep blood from my feet
I strain to move my head and work the kill.
We fight by moving circles in the sky
Both knowing that the tiniest mistake
Will give advantage to the other guy,
Each cunningly maneuv'ring for a break
To put the pipper on the enemy
And pull the trigger of our mighty gun.
While in the air it's either him or me;
Death dealt or dying suffered when it's done.
     My talk of this to folks seems to perplex:
     They haven't flown; don't know it's just like sex.


 



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Created: Apr 21, 2014

Tags: poetry, sonnet

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