The People's Pilot

A rush of iced ocean beneath my feet,

Whirr of the helicopter in time with my heart beat.

Clad in orange, and goggles too,

Ignoring that my lips are frosty and blue.

 

Shatter through the roar of the gust,

Save the lost sailors, their fragile lives in my trust.

Careful watch, eyes sharp as a hawk,

Catch their uniforms like birds of a flock.

 

Pull them shocked from the water below,

Disrupt the grim violence of the black grave’s flow.

Wrap them tightly in warmth and life,

Draw out the frigid cold that cuts like a knife.

 

Bring them home, no matter the cost.

Breathe life to those who were thought to be lost.

Restore a hope for another day,

Save those adrift in the Bering spray.

 

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