After the Flame


Pale beneath the soot and grit,
weariness resting hard upon his shoulders.
Red, tired, aching eyes
stare at what is left.

Sweat trickles down
from beneath the helmet
while steam continues to rise
from well-worn turnouts.

The dark night full of shouts,
yells, and flashing lights.
Another battle won
just barely.


Posted: Apr 17, 2004
Author: Vanessa Sgroi