She lived a firehouse kind of existence in her youth,
never knew when the bell would sound and she’d have
to give in to the flight, rather than fight signal. She’d run,
hide; seek solace anywhere that was out of harm’s way.
The emergency might be over but she always had watch,
waiting for that siren to sound again so she could assess
the situation and seek safety. She lived in a state
of emergency, a combat zone for those many years.
Harm lay in wait at every corner, it could descend
at any moment. Could it be self preservation or irony
that she would marry a firefighter; first response.
5 comments:
Wonderful poem, and the ending made me smile broadly!
You catch the whole phenomenon of hypervigalence, and the way it develops so perfectly here. give your fire fighter a hug for me.
From the home of a firefighter to the home of a firefighter... life doesn't get any better than that, Judy!
take what you have, enjoy...
what else to do?
lovely sentiments,
well done!
Love it.
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