One week into the job
The rookie pulls a boy from a car wreck.
He clings tightly onto the blue uniform
But he doesn’t cry.
He is safe in the arms of the officer.
The new blue smiles ignoring pain and says a prayer,
Michael and Jude, I am the protector,
The one who faces impossible tasks.
“I’m going to be a cop too,” said the boy.
Yeah, this is what I do.
Some years and many miles on the road
Icing a twisted knee from a failed pursuit.
The officer pulls off the uniform that reeks
From the rousted whino.
A call comes from a former classmate with news.
One from their number has fallen in the line of duty.
Michael and Jude, How can I protect
And face the tasks ahead without purpose?
Checking on your toddling child a siren echoes in the distance.
Yeah, stroking the little head, I can continue to do.
Partners have come and gone, cars have changed.
Knee surgery and temporary desk duty have added a few pounds,
Slowing the step and tightening the blue collar.
Ol’ Cap is hospitalized from stress on the heart.
Whiskey bites the throat
Its all been the same, nothing ever changes
Michael and Jude, I need some protection
and help with the job I do.
On the table , drawn in crayon, is a boxy car and officer in blue.
Yeah, that’s the trick, I can go on a few.
Its an odd bit a fate that has brought the circle round
Yesterday, a trouble teen said ‘thanks’ and gave a hug.
Today, at the academy, an unusual invite did bring.
A new officer gets inducted and acknowledged today.
The boy from the car.
He shakes your hand with strength the way you did back when.
You pass on a gift of Don Quixote with the inscription that read,
“Michael and Jude, To Serve and Protect
Is an impossible job to do.
Yet, Quixote did manage to joust a windmill.”
Yeah, you salute, silver shield on blue.