General Ludendorff, two years before, Had pushed the concept in his Total War, And so it seemed a perfect time to see If one could undermine an enemy By striking its civilian population. This proved a most effective innovation, As the defenseless ancient Basque town learned: Three quarters of its buildings bombed and burned, Its children and young wives were blown to bits Or gunned down, when they fled, by Messerschmitts. Shocked condemnations poured forth from the press, But Franco triumphed; and, buoyed by success, The Luftwaffe would similarly slam Warsaw and Coventry and Rotterdam. Berlin cheered these developments; but two Can play such games—and usually do— No matter how repellent or how bloody. And Churchill was, as always, a quick study And would adopt the tactic as his own, Sending the RAF to blitz Cologne. Devising better ways to carpet-bomb (Which later were employed in Vietnam), The Allies, in a show of aerial might, Incinerated Dresden in a night That left the good and evil to their fates, While back in the untorched United States Others approved an even darker plan To coax a prompt surrender from Japan. That day in Spain has taught us, to our cost, That there are lines that never should be crossed; The ignorance of leaders is not bliss If they’re intent on tempting Nemesis. Each day we rise, and each day life goes on: An author signs beneath a colophon; Trucks carry freight through waves of desert heat; A bat cracks, a crowd rises to its feet; Huge jets lift to the sky, and, higher yet, Float satellites that serve the Internet. But still, despite our cleverness and love, Regardless of the past, regardless of The future on which all our hopes are pinned, We’ll reap the whirlwind, who have sown the wind.
Timothy Steele - 1948-
In the Memphis Airport
Above the concourse, from a beam, A little warbler pours forth song. Beneath him, hurried humans stream: Some draw wheeled suitcases along Or from a beeping belt or purse Apply a cell phone to an ear; Some pause at banks of monitors Where times and gates for flights appear. Although by nature flight-endowed, He seems too gentle to reproach These souls who soon will climb through cloud In first class, business class, and coach. He may feel that it's his mistake He’s here, but someone ought to bring A net to catch and help him make His own connections north to spring. He cheeps and trills on, swift and sweet, Though no one outside hears his strains. There, telescopic tunnels greet The cheeks of their arriving planes; A ground crew welcomes and assists Luggage that skycaps, treating bags Like careful ornithologists, Banded with destination tags.