Firehouse Visit

End of the day, darkened room, the world at a distance. Drifting, moving, flying, a sea in nothing but an instant. Places and beings flying by, to fast to really see. Then a sight before my eyes, drawing me there to be. Hill so steep, road so curved, I found it a little odd. High rock wall along the side, holding back the sod. Down that hill in measured time, a light below I spy. A Small and old time firehouse, standing all of two stories high. From the front I did expect to see a fire truck. Told the stables at the side, I was really out of luck. This wasn't in my time frame, by my accounts at least. No engines were at hand, they pulled a cart with beast. Stepping inside and looked around, all seemed well lived in. Strange to me to think it wasn't, a time it shouldn't have been. In the distance a bell clang loud, peeling the night's dead air. Signal to this well kept house, which did indeed to care. Rumbling sounds, boots hit the ground, movement from up above. Each in turn clasped the pole, without a push or shove. On the ground, they turned around, outside they would run. Except for two, who turned my way, and looked very stunned. Did they see me, or something else, today I still don't know. Or nothing more than an misty patch, which at once began to show. From outside a name called, pulling one of the two alert. He tapped his friend, 'We must go now'; did he then to blurt Frenzied sounds from outside, while the horses neighs and prance. Men doing their own part, this looked, appeared a dance. In record time they set the rigging, each jingle clear and bold. Piercing whistle, crack of a whip, Fire cart wheels now rolled. Up the road they dashed away, till only faint the sound. A chill set in, I stood alone, there in that open ground. Crickets in the distance, Frogs throating in the pond. With nothing but the sounds of nature, all at once I'm gone.-- Aine 2010

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