I sat outside in sunny Spring
In skirmish with a writer’s thought; 
I fought with words on navy keys,
Unruly troops of thoughts unsought.

When all at once a wind began
And ran to me from Southern clears.
It loosened fleets of flying foes,
The helicopter bombardiers.

They came in rank and flanked my seat
And jammed my keys from rattling.
Smart play, I’d say, to seize the chance
While in my inward battling.

A journalist in hostile land
I ran, rebuffed by their array,
And though so many crashed to earth
They slept as seeds for Summer’s day.