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A Firefighter's Gloves
A Firefighters Gloves hold many things,
From elderly arms to a kids broken swing.
From the hands they shake
and the backs they pat,
To the tiny claw marks
of another treed cat.
At 2 am they are filled with the chrome,
From the Dwi who was on her way home.
And the equipment they use
to roll back the dash,
From a family of 6
she involved in the crash.
The brush rakes in Spring
wear the palms out,
When the wind does a "90"
to fill them with doubt.
The thumb of the glove
wipes the sweat from the brow,
Of the face of a firefighter
who mutters "What now!"
They hold inch and three quarters
flowing one seventy five,
So the ones going in,
come back out alive.
When the regulator goes;
then there isn't too much,
But the bypass valve
they eagerly clutch.
The rescue equipment,
the ropes, the C-collars,
The lives that they save
never measured in dollars,
Are the obvious things
firefighters gloves hold,
Or, so that is what
I've been always told.
But there are other things
Firefighters Gloves touch,
Those are the things
we all need so much.
They hold back the rage
on that 3 am call.
They hold in the fear
when your lost in a hall,
They hold back the pity,
agony,sorrow.
They hold in the desire
to "Do it tomorrow".
A glove is just a glove
till it's on firefighter,
Who work all day long
just to pull an all-nighter.
And into the forray
they charge without fear,
At the sound of a "Help"
they think that they hear.
When firefighters' hands
go into the glove,
It's a firefighter who
always fills it with love.
Sometimes the sorrow
is too much to bear,
And it seeps the glove
and burns deep "in there".
Off come the gloves
when the call is done,
And into the pocket
until the next run.
The hands become lonely
and cold for a bit,
And shake just a little
thinking of it.
And we sit there so red eyed
with our gloves in their coats,
The tears come so fast
that the furniture floats.
We're not so brave now;
our hands we can't hide,
I guess it just means that we're human inside,
And though some are paid
and others are not,
The gloves feel the same
when it's cold or it's hot.
To someone you're helping
to just get along,
When you fill them with love,
you always feel strong.
And so when I go on my final big ride,
I hope to have my gloves by my side,
To show to St. Peter
at that heavenly gate.
Cause as everyone knows,
Firefighters Do Not Wait!!!
Thank God.
May God always watch
over these brave men
and women, keep them safe,
and let them know only
peace and love.
~Lilly~
 
� 2001
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