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.
