stories of the firefighter

A safe inner world, lit by the backlight of dreams…You must have somewhere safe to go here.

Umbrellas open against the rain or snow, boots so high they turn pants. Rings under gloves, short hair now hidden under hats. Some things must be given up on. Do you understand? The world, like the weather in the sky, simply continues moving overhead.

And so what of the latest burning building? Last night a New York firefighter told me stories. Of course we care, of course! Everyone’s feared the worst, wondered what if, what would happen if all was lost to the drop of the smallest token of eternity – the tiny match, great leveler of class & race & creed…

What is your world lit by? I asked him. Nightmares or dreams?
Something’s back there, he said, throwing tedious, fragile shadows onto this life…Every once in a while, it reveals what’s under the bed, trapped in a suitcase, alone all these years with a safety pin, two pennies and a folded itinerary. Inured to the silence & darkness, toothless after trying all this time to bite its way through your bindings, look, bend closer: you.