“Police officers put on the badge every morning, not knowing for sure
if they'll come home that night to take it off.”
Tom Cotton
Four hours past
The witching hour
Finds me lying here
Wide awake and
Staring into
The darkness.
There are
Four hours remaining
In your shift,
Four hours remaining
In your police career;
I did the same
When you served
In dangerous places
During the war,
Spending hours
Worrying,
Dreading
A visit from
A military chaplain,
Then overjoyed the day
You came home
Virtually unscathed,
Only to discover
Days later
How your desire
To serve
Was leading you
Toward new dangers.
I was angry
Because I was scared,
Then sadly,
Yet still proudly,
I remembered that
This essential
Part of you
Was one of the reasons
I love you so much.
Four more hours,
Just four more hours...
God, please don't take him
From me now.
A fine tribute of devotion and love to the men in blue who walk the city streets for our protection, putting themselves at dangerous risk, especially in this day and age. Thanks for posting.
Your poem told a story that the wives of many police officers go through. Beautifully poignant.
However, I recall Jimmy Kimmel, who often featured his uncle, a retired New York City police officer who claimed that during his career, "I never had to pull my gun, even once." May he rest in peace having died rather young, from some ailment other than a gunshot wound or knife blade.
Zara’s Bois:
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However, I recall Jimmy Kimmel, who often featured his uncle, a retired New York City police officer who claimed that during his career, "I never had to pull my gun, even once." May he rest in peace having died rather young, from some ailment other than a gunshot wound or knife blade.
Ron