The Firefighters Helmet.
All I can think of is that dented firefighters helmet
As I recall that concrete and twisted steel tomb
Those dazed and dusty faces lost in disbelief
In the rubble of the fallen towers
Only moments ago, the planes assailed New York
Pulverizing the heart of the nation
Steel supports gave way, bodies fell from the smoke
Our delusions of safety burning away
From the debris we plucked the pieces of hellish reality
The rescue workers keeping theirs, and I mine
Holding fast to the hope of a chance to find life
Somewhere in the hazy gray of uncountable names
Those who’ve been lost now sleep around us as we work
Although they’ve been consumed and ripped
Their spirits, our hope, and a brighter future remains
Healing the wounds, cleaning the blood, and drying the eyes
As we lifted a piece of broken wall the helmet fell free
Tumbling down the tor of steely concrete to land at my feet
Burning the truth of that day beyond any comprehension
Side by side we worked understanding...that unspoken moment
Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007
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