dynamic response team

Seeing each other's arousal 
("oh jeez"), we spring 
as if urgent -
for need has called 
and response has become 
high duty indeed.
Reciprocal gone 
full blown mutual.

You were the first 
- that time you saw 
me distracted by you
in the midst of talk,
my chagrin arose 
full fluster and rue. 

Your eyes awoke 
from across the room 
- you actually said 
"oh jeez," dropped 
your doing and ran,
slid the last halfway 
on your knees! Perfect 
aim in poise and élan,

arrived just

in the nick of time, stopped
to save the day, to fulfill 
some trust. 

It became a joke to live up to
and for. It grew obligation 
from gift galore, and it seems
to have made emergencies 
rather more routine, and joy
a chore we absurdly enjoy,
if possible even more with ease
than before, since we know
that we live to please. 

Like firefighters,
in a station that bursts
disgracefully in conflagration 
enflamed, we hang 
in suspense on the edge 
of a bell, making chili
and talk, playing improvised
games. Fixing recipes we've been
dying to try, killing time, making life
till the call comes in - and we drop
all our doing (and one of us always
says to this day "oh jeez,") and
we leap to respond! To begin, 
springing into the act
on high alert duty routine
at a run! 
 
We don't walk. This is
serious biz! That's a fact.
No one winks. We don 
serious mien and we 
mean it! So trained
we don't even think.
We giggle and squirm
out of uniform, into proper kit
on a call like this - as around us, 
headquarters begins to smoke. 

There are flames to catch, crackle
pop and hiss. There is duty 
to serve, and a day 
to save which was never 
in doubt or fear. No joke. 
It has gone past a joke,
as practice perfects 
in play, in routine 
going every which 
random way. 

There's always that 
one firehouse 
that burns down 
each day.