Smokejumper

Sun and water,
Water and sun.
And through it all, a bright weariness,
A taste of something beyond,
Life lived strong, as if in a dream,
Hazy, and slick with sweat and smoke and grime.
But always the sense of water, and the red light.

Rising,
Rising up as if I could touch the sky.
So near that there is only a fine mesh separating me
     from distance and light and swirling black air.
But also bright.
And then like a tumbling leaf, I plunge down into the right spot.
And life starts again,
Too sharp to bear---except the living Now,
And the water,
And the sun,
And the bright, smoky air.