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.