Within the Trenches - From the inbox

A share from a good friend and past podcast guest. She and her crew worked a tragic fire call and a co-worker wrote a poem for her.

 

"We took a call the other night for a house fire. 6 perished. We are heart broken. And she wrote that for me."

 

I am not empty

I am filled with ghosts.

They live in my soul

They sway alongside the happy spirits that dance with good memories.

 

I am not impenetrable

I suffer the wounds

Of stabs and lacerations

I bleed, every day when the blood of others’ cuts drip onto me.

 

I am not strong

I stand at the precipice

Of those who fell down.

I rise, for the fallen who will never rise again.

 

I am not cursed

I am blessed, knowing

I am a part of life.

Death’s pride, will not gloat over me.

 

I am there when you live

I am there when you die

I am 911.

I am the voice that will carry you home.

 

lab

11/22/17