Close Quarters
Jon Hirsch
Creeping, hunched over, prowling
The passageways of the derelict, dark, rusty, dirty
Maintain a low profile, hunched over minimize my silhouette
Step by step, my partner and I locked shoulder to shoulder
Creeping, hunched over, as one through the darkness
I can't see them, they can't see me.
The dark is my armor
Only one left, but two more rooms.
Where am I?
A flash from the light attached to the end of my instrument turns night into day
Dust motes rain down across the beam of my light
Almost at the next door. Could this one be empty?
What is waiting on the other side?
Remember the training;
Drilled and rehearsed and drilled
It's always so easy to talk about it in a classroom.
One, two, through the door.
I throw the door open
We storm the darkness.
Barrel raised, light unveiling the contents of a store room
Heart pounding, feet pounding,
One, two, three, four, five, six
Clad in black, we fill the confines.
Elation, disappointment, apprehension
Clear, Clear passed from one to the last.
This room is clear, which only means
He is in the next.
Close Quarters© COPYRIGHT 2005 Jon Hirsch.
Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author.
05/18/05
