Light in the Night By Kelsea Bittner

Light in the Night

The grass, stale and dry provides perfect rest
Evenings in July put the mind at ease
Gazing up, no white puffs are to be seen
And the crystal sky, lit bright by the stars
Then calmed disturbed by the giant above

A grumble, roar, thunder from the big bird
My body alive with the trembles in air
The sky, quivering as the plane passes

Not to be unnoticed, the impression
The bird leaves behind a token of art
Flowing steadily after its maker

Leaving a faint tattoo on the heavens
Illuminating the sky and present
A roar so powerful leaving behind
An image so soft, so serene, so light

The star filled sky now has an element
Of surprise, a decorative aspect
It provides pleasure to the eyes of those
On the grass, who spend Summer gazing up

Hoping to witness profound energy
Of a bird who soars high with such power
That it moves the body and shakes the grass
And tickles the trees, and quiets the chirps

Yet abandons the sky, and leaves behind
A translucent stream of remembrance
The plane cutting and soaring through the dark
Leaves a light and a calm, after it's gone
This image remains only a short time
Until that is, until the next bird flies
This grass holds me waiting, to see the next

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After the Air Tattoo By Fiona Sampson

All in the stilly night the muntjac

roars from its hedge: a barking roar

of July, heat, its own broken-open

fruition

                      under black

viscose, a sky

static with plane-roar.

The intermission after the greatest air show in the world;

fields and lane recovering;

tarmac tonguing sky again,

languid

in the summer half-dark, towards Fairford

where ancient glass trembles,   

facets of dark open to tumble out

king, revenge-tragedy, triumphal colors of God.