The temperature outside is fifteen below
the pager sounds and I must go.
A fire burns and the heat is nice
but the cold turns the hoses and water to ice.
Icicles form and hang from my helmet
and the Red Cross Coffee truck is not here yet.
More and more water is sprayed, its all we can do,
and now the building begins to look like an igloo
Winter firefighting can be extreme to the max
and we chip the ice of the hydrant with an axe.
I find refuge in a building next door
I take my coat of and stand it on the floor.
Slipping a sliding, the streets like a rink
and the cold is making it hard to think
After it's over we finally head back
to a warm fire station and a good sized snack
By David K. 1/29/2004
(aka Johnny Gage