Another morning, another flight:
the same procedural checks before departure;
in the brisk dawn, a tuneless whistle,
the routine exchanges of the day;
was the take off unremarkable in every way;
did the flight itself pass without incident;
was the talk about baseball and weekend leave
and time spent playing with the baby
till that moment when their faces fell
and a terrible insight was theirs?
Another mission, another dawn,
another long night ending.
Later, the captain would lift his pen:
'My God, what have we done?'
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