–While Someone Is Talking

I startle, catch at the image
of all those firefighters
in Hong Kong movies
clamoring through smoke
to pull off their rescues,
and now I get it. 
Now I know where I am.
I’m on Victoria Peak again,
after the long tram ride up
canted through Hong Kong
buildings thrown rakishly
backwards. I want the view
from the top, but there is none.

A door slams behind me.
I am in outer space. 
Or is it movie space?
Even the telescopes are blank
in the huge white gusts
of wind and swirling clouds. 
I am thrillingly lost
and keen at the thought
of no salvation, though
something in me is watchful,
wary that fire helmets
will darken the fog
               coming to reach me.

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