They change forever,
summer's hue,
releasing their payload
of red, white, and blue.
They grace the sky
near speed of sound,
in gravity-defying power,
fighting forces skyward bound.
Discerning crowds below,
they treat
to stomach-churn display
and death-defying feat.
Engines roar,
as two planes come in low.
Many watch - suspense and awe,
as they pass each other
within a foot or so.
And then in a heartbeat -
to dizzy heights they soar.
There's an air of danger
and excitement in the way
they play,
compelling hardened
men to look away.
With the tipping of their wings,
they take a graceful bow -
to say goodbye,
as spectators reach up high,
each hoping for
one last snap of
Heroes of the sky.
And so, away they fly,
over house and home and steeple.
Leaving behind the acrid smell
of burned fuel, to mingle with
popcorn and people.
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