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The birds are flying north
The birds are flying north
before winter bites
with the first chill,
but coming south
with a whistling whine of rotors
An ugly enemy helicopter gunship
hangs deadly in the air.
It’s just another ugly monster
with a canon in the nose
and a bunch of sinister rocket pods,
that flies past.
a Missile flies into the blue sky
and the monster explodes and is gone
from the air
and some more birds fly past
heading north.
poem
by
Gert Strydom
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