Three firemen came to our house tonight

Three young men in full firefighting regalia.

Bella announced their presence

Before they ever rang the bell,

Letting us know there were men

With flashlights on our porch.

When I opened the door, they said they were there

Because of the smoke alarm.  I told them that

It was only my husband, frying pork chops

On the stove top in the kitchen.

They said they knew the smoke alarm had been

Turned off—that they only came to see if we needed

Help blowing the smoke out of our house.

We told them thank you—we were fine.  We told them

We had three extra pork chops, if they were interested.

The youngest, a sweet-faced, kind young man,

Looked back at me as though he might be hungry right then,

As though he might be tempted to take me up

On my offer of a slightly undercooked chop.

The others insisted that it was time to go,

And so they did—the three of them,

Walking with their maglites in the dark back down our

Very straight, steep driveway.

We didn’t really need them tonight,

But, smoke alarm or not, they were here.

I’m glad they came, those bright-eyed, sweet young men,

Brimming with purpose in their heavy suits of yellow and black.

They came to help us when we didn’t need them.

I’m glad they did.