Thursday, September 30, 2010


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.


Mary said...

Wonderful poem, and the ending made me smile broadly!

Victoria said...

You catch the whole phenomenon of hypervigalence, and the way it develops so perfectly here. give your fire fighter a hug for me.

Diane T said...

From the home of a firefighter to the home of a firefighter... life doesn't get any better than that, Judy!

Jingle said...

take what you have, enjoy...
what else to do?
lovely sentiments,
well done!

Jingle said...
It is Monday again, I sincerely invite you to join us for a Monday Poetry Potluck party, bring in 1 to 3 poem treats to share via the link on the top! You could use an old poem.

Bill said...

Love it.