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Contemporary poet Donald Hall's “Pilot of 1918” is a poem-constructed, it would seem, out of a dream-but whatever the inspiration, it certainly evokes a dream.
The Pilot of 1918He discovers himself on an old airfield.He thinks he was there before,but rain has washed out the lettering of a sign.A single biplane, all struts and wires,stands in the long grass and wildflowers.He pulls himself into the narrow cockpitalthough his muscles are stiffand sits like an egg in a nest of canvas.