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Date Posted: 19:23:59 06/20/02 Thu
Author: Harmony
Author Host/IP: ip68-7-207-170.sd.sd.cox.net / 68.7.207.170
Subject: Night Launch

Night Launch

At sea the moonless, mantled night
Is blacker than a hundred midnights
Deep in the maw of a cypress swamp,
And the carrier's running lights
Are hooded and dimly impotent.

Sixty feet above the sea's foaming curl
Sleek swept-winged birds are unchained
From a gray steel slab--the flight deck.
Whining and howling engines contain
The turgid power to sustain flight,

The inky blackness is punctuated
By director's glowing amber wands,
Like syncopated fireflies
Beaconing signals with practiced hands,
Guiding blind craft to the catapult.

The movement is a symphony
Of frantic, chaotic precision
That reaches a shuddering crescendo
With each taut, measured decision
To unleash the catapult's awesome might.

Each cockpit is an instrumented
Womb of pale red profusion,
Eerily silhouetting mask and helmet
Donned by young lions--their calm tension
Mounting as the critical moment nears.

First a red wand circles, stabs the gloom,
Urging throttles forward to ignite
Twin afterburning tongues of flame
Searing the fragile veil of the night.
The tethered bird shrieks and strains to soar.

Then the green wand--all is right--
Signals in a graceful, swinging arc.
Powerful scalding, steam is unleashed
To hurl the bird into the milky dark,
Jolting the pilot with blurring force.

And the loud, sweaty ballet goes on
As each winged chariot, one by one,
Is given the wrenching gift of flight,
Until the last is away and gone,
Engines' thunder fading in the night.

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