Explore "Green Balls" by Paul Bewsher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"When in the East the evening stars burn clear, / We know our time of toil is drawing near; / For as the evening deepens in the West, / It brings an ending to our day-long rest. / One after one we slip into the gloom, / And through the dusk like great cockchafers boom; / High in the stars you hear our mournful cry, / As we sail onward through the sapphire sky. " / -- _The Night Bombers._
I suddenly wake, and sit up in bed with strained ears. I have a dim recollection of a noise. Then I hear three or four dull explosions like distant gunfire, and out wails the piteous appeal of "Mournful Mary" at the Dunkerque docks.