for Gary V. Grutkowski By Timothy Williams I wish I were a fireman in San Francisco in 1906, or now, today, in the places where we sift through the ashes. I wish I were a firefighter at Wilbur Hot Springs in 2014, when dragons shattered windows and devoured the grande dame hotel. Beautiful. Lovely. Dangerous. The golden fire rises, day and night. No matter what, fire goes on. I wish I were a fireman this summer in the remote counties of California, where in the raging grasses I would work the water. Pour it out, drench the scorched ground, calm the terror, drown out stench and fear. I wish I could ride on fire trucks, saving school buses of students on their way to Humboldt. Doe-eyed youth leaving home forever, family dreams broken, fragmented by fire. Rage and beauty. Terror aflame. Gather, flee, and wait. I wish I were a firefighter that I might float in deep water, eyes to the sky, watching crows fly for night’s home tree, trucks at the ready. About the poet: Poet and writer Timothy Williams has been writing since the 1960’s, and has published three chapbooks as well as two books of poetry and prose: Gates of Wilbur and Baseball In and Out of Time. His CD, Lunch at Lolas, is in its second pressing. Through his publishing company, Jaxon’s Press, Timothy actively promotes other poets and writers in his community of Sonoma County, California, where he resides with his wife, musician Sarah Baker.Ode to a Volunteer Firefighter