Sirens.

by Poet on the Piano   Jul 1, 2014


They're not the beautiful voices of mythology
who trap sailors with sweet cadences, no,
there is no enchantment in the sound that
pierces a stagnant soul...

there is merely anxiety, a nervous being that
corrodes one's bones until one cannot stand.

And when my ears detect the high pitched sound,
wavering with mistrust,
I worry as a young woman who can't save the night,
who can't do much besides mold two hands together.

I realize how secure I am a quarter of a mile away,
and how I can only clench my teeth and pray,
pray like lightning, that danger does not swallow
the innocent.

-
Written 7/01/14 @ 6:12 AM

I live down the road from a volunteer fire department and have heard a few sirens this morning. It always unnerves me because I want to help somehow, and I never know what happened or if everyone is safe.

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  • 10 years ago

    by Baby Rainbow

    Wow, I did wonder where you would go with this poem from the title, I thought it would be really deep and about alarm bells of emotions and life and danger etc.

    However, what I find is literally more simple, the sirens of emergency teams passing by, and you have turned that moment into something deeper, which we can relate to. I often wonder some of these things myself, when I hear or see an ambulance or fire engine, your imagination can lead you astray, and you very rarely get to know the outcome of the situation.

    I like how you add in a part of your own personality here:

    I worry as a young woman who can't save the night

    - to me this shows care, and deep hearted passion of kindness, just wanting all to be well and safe for everyone.

    I like when something simple is turned out to be beautiful and quite touching, yet nothing much has happened within the poem itself.

    I enjoyed this.

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