Hot Pursuit

  24-6 Hot Pursuit

Susan strapped on her Taurus 605

and said, “let’s just take our 

hot-pursuit Jeep and see where

he goes.”  Trooper was up in

An instant, wagging his tail.

They climbed into the old Jeep

Liberty and followed the dust.

The man took a side road and

eventually stopped in front

of a well-kept house.  He

walked to his front door 

and stood looking back

at Susan and Trooper as

they got out of their Jeep

and followed him.  He scowled,

“You won’t help me; so what 

do you want?”  

“We didn’t finish

quite right.  I need your wife’s

name and yours too in case 

something happens in the future

to where I need those things.”

“Like what,” he snapped back

with belligerence?”

“Like if 

she were to turn up dead and 

found lying in your back forty.”

He smirked, “you don’t mince

words, do you?”

“I try not to.”

Ghost Town Sheriff

 [Not exactly poems, 24-5, 24-6, 24-7, and 24-8 are a dream sequence that got out of hand]

24-5      Ghost-town Sheriff                     

“Are you the Sheriff, ma’am?”

“As much as anyone, I guess.

Have you got a problem?”

“And is that your police dog?”

“That’s him, Trooper.  Can’t

do all the tricks a shepherd

can but he can track and fight.

Listens to me most of the time, too

Which is a big plus; so what’s

your problem?”

“Can’t find my wife.”

“Where was she supposed to be?”

“At home, of course, but I got

home just now and she wasn’t

there.  Her car was gone as well.”

“Could she have gone to the store?”

“What store?  I do all the shopping.”

“That’s creepy.”

“She does other things,

“Don’t like to shop.”

“This wife of yours, is she a woman?

“Of course.  I have to find her.”  

“Well you could hire someone

private.  Might have to go

to Phoenix for that.  I’d try

Prescott first.”

“Why couldn’t you

do that?”

“Well, my jurisdiction is

this town and its environs, meaning

all the small farms and houses round

about.  Town council would fire me

right quick if I took to traipsing to 

Hell and gone after your wife.”

He gave her a hard look.  Trooper

growled and the man strode

angrily away.  

“Anything I can actually

help you with?” She called after him, 

but he didn’t answer.  “Guess not.” They

watched him walk down the street 

to a Ford Ranger.  “We didn’t get

his name or his wife’s either.  We’re

already doing a bad job and it’s not

quite noon.”

Trooper groaned and lay back down.

A Surly Old Man

Perhaps it was Cro-Magnon 

Influence in my complicated

DNA impelling me against

Monsters in China stopping

My peers at a line – a 

Truce was signed, a “stay

here” line.  Far to the 

South I heard, “We don’t

Need you up there,” but

That is where I want

To be.”  The sergeant

Shrugged at my naivete,

My new friends shrugged

As well so I settled in.

Years later the wounds

I carry weren’t earned

In war.  No monster 

Struck me down, and the

Citizenry leaves me be as

They did my Cro-Magnon

Forbears as days fade.

Twins

There were two, one

Stacked upon the other

Which I carried with

One hand, the other 

Needing the walking

Stick to keep us

Upright, and the cakes

From smearing the dirt

Path with white frosting.

It isn’t so bad being old.

No one will wonder if I fall,

If the cakes are lost

On this strange trail no one

Else seems interested in.

Out of breath I stop

And lean my stick

Against a tree.

Jessica lies down next to me

And licks the frosting from a cake.

I rescue the other for myself.

No one wonders or complains.

A Little Rain

Through the bathroom window

I saw it was raining again;

Not hard, probably, and in the

Dream I recalled a need

To poison all the bad guys.

No need for me to do it literally.

I had a clever girl for that.

I’ve known a lot of those

Over the years, evolution

Doing that neatly round about.

This one was not precise;

So the dream was a comedy.

She kept forgetting who 

Was left, and laughing.

No one had actually

Started to die.  We

Needed to flee, but she

Smiled on, not worrying,

Doing her humorous job.

Then the scene changed

Sparing me a grisly end.

Losing her again

        She is lost again

Swirling just out of 

Memory’s reach – 

The reality of her

Slips from her

Favorite tree to 

Fall gently down.  

I reach out as far

As I’m able and other

Thoughts approach,

Regrets – nothing

From her.  Across

The street a young

Man starts his 

Thunderous car. She

Would not have 

Returned to sleep.  I see

Less well so each

Step is a challenge as

I turn toward the rest

Of the years without her.

Being bipedal while old

 

When I came down

Out of the trees

I was on my way

Back from Korea 

On a ship filled 

With vomiting Marines.

Everyone did it:

Walked on two legs,

So I did as well,

But the older I got

The more I longed

For the trees –

Not those in my 

Back yard with weak

Limbs that grow too

Large to hold onto,

But those easily grasped

In the forest I 

Dream of still:

When we were young

And full of wild ways.