Faye Sizemore

NIGHT FLIGHT

Tired… so tired… when will it end…?
Fifty seven years are gone again
In the twilight… time for sleeping…
they come… memories creeping
The devil’s minions… bring their measure…
gifts to my memory… of tarnished treasure
For every night the 509th flies again…
lo… every night… again… I may lose my friend…
Tonight I saw him… Yes… in his B29… clear as a bell…
He smiled at me… and this night… routed the minions of Hell
He bid me sleep… and all was then well…

Author’s Note: For Doug Caffey – In Memory of his friend, Bob Copeland: KIA April 17, 1945