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Poem

Fresh from a walk we sit observing the coming rain, what luck

But not for some

Over the drained lake comes the sound of emergency

Flashing blue, resplendent red trucks

It is a fire, a restaurant smokes, wreaths wash in the wind

Until eight vehicles attend, many yellow clad bodies all working to save the moment

Then the rain starts, perhaps a help? But to have to work in this?

We watch as the event unfolds, binoculars give us more sight

Seeing the theatre on a quiet Sunday afternoon unfold before us

A controlled and calm aura seems to embrace the moment over there

Happy that we are many hundreds of meters safe from this

Of course, we speculate, hoping non are hurt, hoping that the fire is contained

This scenario lit by blue strobes as the evening sinks the light turning to dark

Less and less to be seen, now only the surreal glare of strong lamps and flashing lights illuminate the smoke, the darkening sky, the other buildings

Then more smoke appears, like a creature seeking escape it finds another gap from which to sneak

And so the roof seems to hold its own against the odds

As if wanting to live it fights for an hour and more, relentless in its struggle for life

How will it end, as these words are penned it continues onwards

The thought comes as an ambulance enters stage left that there are no injured

Neither from the guests or these volunteer fighters, we would not want this

Still the clouds of smoke ascend unabated, still the darkness lit by piercing blue

Casting an urgent scene, black dotted by action

Perhaps we will read a good ending tomorrow, as the night unfolds enveloping all

In blue lights

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