Firetruck Omen

The old fire truck is

so close

that I can feel

the old burn scars

begin to twinge.


The guardian dogs

cry outside my door

as I am fast asleep

escaping the quake

in my dreams.


Will a gas pipe

burst and get lit

at this unexpected

juncture down

the path

I left behind?


Since the firetruck’s

last visit

I’ve trained myself

to forget and reassociate

the instant thoughts

that occur when I get


déjà vu

reminiscent of that path.


I am doing

so well,

but here

are the dogs

crying warning,

and here is a firetruck

preceding my way

as I go to meet

the old fire.

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