I don't believe for a minute; no, not a bit of it,
That a Shaft presumes a full stop,
Like a period at the end of some line.
At my desk, safe and snug in doors,
With Leo's clacking of boiler just below me
I read of the Fall of a neighbor of mine.
An east side fire on Baltimore Ave. and a Dad,
A husband, a Halligan-fisted friend in full drop
Down an unguarded shaft to a stop malign.
I'm not buying, not for one minute; no, not a bit of it.
Christ ER had a go at denying gravity's plea
For one more ascent to Christ's arms Icarus enshrine.
There was no Fall. This was ascent.
The shaft is on on us, expecting full stop.
A fireman was winged high; not as we opine.
Words fail me, you see I am limited and
Limiting runs us off the secured . . .unguarded
Smoke befogged level line
Not our Call; not our Bell; not our say so,
But His who draws up and in the True.
I do what what I can here - Dan is fine.
