BADGE

When I came down the stairs and found The cot was bare Dad gave me pocket money To buy a sheriff’s badge To ride the Western plains To fight the Apache braves, bring rough men to justice. Warned not to get so close That I could smell the bison’s breath, Beware of the rattle of the snake’s tail. But on return, the cot still bare There was a sense of a breath unbreathed No steady rhythm of a pulsing heart No cry from still-growing lungs. Just the crinkle on the sheets Like wrinkles on an old man’s face.