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A parachutist
standing in the open door
white-knuckled, grasping the aluminum frame
Looking into ten thousand feet of nothing...

A cop
huddled in the hall
gun drawn, sweat stinging his eyes
knowing he must go through the door...

A trapeze artist
milliseconds from the top of his arc
where timing demands he let go,
working without a net...

A fireman
taking one last gasp of sweet pure air
gauging both the flames and falling debris
before he rushes in...

I stand on the verge,
wild-eyed and dry-mouthed,
fear-brushed, adrenaline-rushed,
AND- I- AM- FROZEN