The spitfire met the Messerschmidt his back was to the sun.

He rolled away right into blue skies dotted with puffs of
Cannon fire smoke stitched a  polka dot trail behind.

Chalk white cliffs glisten in relief. Soon the moment of truth will step forward destiny waited patiently it's turn as the island burned by night

The speckled.sky by day. The chatter and moan the struggle of flesh

against fire and steel.
Against will a death-dealing skill
**** or be killed
A ballet of silver winged coffins filled with fear and courage.
Times that try men's souls.
In the end.

The outcome was in doubt for many who stood
and made stand  that spoke of commitment to survival.
That spirit is now past.
But school will commence again
soon. Soon.
Sorry to say.
Read gaping spaces between the lines. Though a different
wolf wrapped in fine garments and expensive Italian footwear
will prance into our nightmares
stoke our insecurities
smile and assure.
No Mustache or comb-over though.

Doomsayer say you.
Chill pill versus paranoia.