Fire-Tower Blues
I took this as a summer job,
college expenses require pay,
they sent me up Whithorn Mountain,
put me in a cabin to stay.
Every morn I climb the tower
to make sure the forests don’t burn,
underestimated the boredom,
for some interaction I yearn.
Sure, the hikers will chat with me,
but I give them the same old spiel,
fifteen minute friends, come-and-go,
not much time for something real.
My girlfriend came for a weekend,
but she’s such an indoor cat,
stomped down before one day was through,
then she dumped me after that…
I get cell-reception up here,
from a tower one peak away,
but the cabin has no power,
so the charge I have to save.
I get to go down once a week,
but it’s such a small, mountain town,
go to the diner, get supplies,
then I mostly just wander ’round.
It can be hard to make my peace
when there seems so little to do,
my condition is rare, not oft seen,
I’ve got the fire-tower blues.
But those small red squirrels chittering
can’t help but give me a grin,
they’re the kings of this mountain,
until the birds-of-prey soar in.
Turkey vultures sniff for carrion,
while scribing circles on the wing,
Red-tail hawks look for living food,
and by God, their screech is amazing!
And just the other day I saw
a bull elk walk across the slope.
I know he’s just an animal,
but the sight still inspires hope.
Wild blueberries grow close by,
and after I’ve checked for bears,
you’ll often find me eating them,
it is nature’s feast down there.
Plus it is much cooler up here,
then in the flat-lands below,
the summer sweat and sweltering
is something that I never know.
And every sunrise and sunset
looks out upon God’s own view,
I suppose it nearly offsets
those old fire-tower blues.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment