When I was in Germany,
I saw a battle where planes
killed soldiers. The ants
ran, but the planes shot
out bombs like a boy who
throws stones into the river.
The sight was bad, but I
had to take pictures of this.
A war photographer has
to take pictures of a war.

When I returned home,
no one knew about this war.
It had not been in the newspaper.
The planes and every sign
of the war were magicians.
They performed their vanishing
act in my picture.

When I woke up one morning
in my house three days later,
I read the newspaper.
Planes had thrown bombs
On to soldiers in Germany.