Caring People Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Della and her daughter
Live in the depths of the city together
They have a house that they humbly call ours
Daily, sirens wail from passing police cars

From their surroundings they feel reasonably safe
Protected from drug dealers, thieves, and rape
They stay to themselves… trusting no one
Venturing out by day is their only option

In the early morning hours smoke stirred hysteria
Seeping from window frames near the kitchen area
Neighbors vainly tried to enter and began to shout
Knowing the twosome were inside… they had to get out

A rescue seemed impossible…observers began to weep
In an upstairs bedroom; the unsuspecting were asleep
Franticly, caring people began throwing bricks
At high windows with an intent that was transfixed

Mother and daughter awoke to sounds of shattering
A smoke filling room… sent thoughts scattering
Raising a broken window wide… no time to stall
Looking to the ground… they did not want to fall

The waiting arms of people motioned… jump to survive
Daughter leaped… but mother refused to take a dive
Choking and gasping… as the heat was intensifying
A winded man appeared… with a ladder he was carrying

Extending just short of where it was urgently needed
Unable to reach the rungs… Della's hopes were impeded
Two strong men lifted the ladder to their shoulders
The distressed woman descended to the aiding holders

Backing away from what looked like a giant can of Sterno
Watching as flames burst from an incinerating inferno
Unfortunately the home was gutted beyond recognition…
Della and her daughter are in satisfactory condition


2/29/08