Read a poem by another poet written
on the same day:

Wings between buildings
old white-and-black tudor
gable-roofed buildings
They line the hill
until the oaks take over
and cover the hilltop green

It's like flying in a jampot
and that's the guidance
I get for ferreting us out
ready for duty abroad
arms at ease I have to shout
False alarm—then it blows

After all we had to cry
wolf to get us moving
out our houses into the street
to line the route I'll take
when I fly between houses
and drop from my wings

A batch of new poems
printed on heavy card
with adverts for the barber's
and pub at the bottom
To commemorate the Spitfire
and Battle of Britain bravery

East Finchley