Poetry

Playing Mig roulette, along we would drive
without cover,
listening for reports from commandos
then pull over,
to hide under trees and camouflage nets,
then recover;
after the futile enemy bombing
again armoured cars would be driving.

[Poet’s note: Mig here refers to Mig-21 and Mig-23 fighter bombers flown by the enemy Cuban / FAPLA air-force.]