Sunday Night Anthem

I live at the bottom of Hwy 154. After listening for the past several weeks to the sirens of the first responders I wrote this poem.

Death Chant

Sunday night anthem on Hwy 154
Sirens blowing
Their trajectory a song,
Rising towards the mountain top
Moving beyond my hearing
The young and golden with wine in their pocket
and all of life to live

To submit a comment on this article, email or visit our Facebook page. To submit information to a reporter, email

event calendar sponsored by: