To stroll the city market and notice
hot-pot boiling on its table, one leg
of which is repaired with duct tape;
and to observe also the running children
ducking to swerve underneath elbows
of adults sipping hot tea as they chat
is to endure a slow repeated needling
imposed on the few by the many
whose objective is other than safety.
After all, the bronze statues memorialize
risk takers. No memorials are built
to honor the avoidance of undue risk
as he does now, stepping subtly before
a bicycle cart, to shield an old woman walking.
“To take the lowly place – this is honorable.”
To those who live in fire-protected tenements;
to the cooks, the elderly woman, the running children;
to the many un-burned, un-trampled people
he is not even an afterthought, but merely
a silent ghost who stares back at their faces –
not knowing which among them he has saved.
– B. Taylor Jun 20 2024