He hears the house quietly plotting
Fire doused fuming an acrid smell
The heat and smoke are choking
His job is to seek the living in hell
His breath labored, gets heavier
Clouds the glass on his face mask
Wet with sweat and dripping water
Fears the fires not had its last laugh
When flame to a fire gives breath
Vipered tongues lash out in disdain.
Like the eyes of man and death
Gomorrah’s fire ever more still claims
The quiet is what worries him in there
Alone among many, with madness itself
To save another is his duty, his care
But today will he be able to save himself?
Every child he rescues is his daughter
Every house on fire is all his own
With the love to save another
His own life he does disown.
Dann Thomas's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The Fireman by Dann Thomas )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
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