My department about to start a training exercise
A call in the nighttime
Blasts me from my dreams,
Someone’s in trouble
The radio screams.
Don gear at the station
Before taking a truck,
To find the right driveway
Can sometimes take luck.
I have the training
I’ll be okay,
So I can run towards
While you run away.
My fate’s in my hands
From the training I choose,
Equipment and practice
Between win and lose.
Smell of the smoke,
Dance of the flame,
Puzzles to solve
In areal-life game.
It takes up my time,
Puts me in danger,
But I keep volunteering,
Help neighbor and stranger.
By Kate Rauner
Filed under:
Poetry Tagged:
poem,
poetry,
volunteer firefighter
Published on March 23, 2016 04:58