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The Chaplain
Though it had been more than 20 years My sorrow was just too much to bear, So I called the police chaplain Only he wasn’t there. “It’s so late at night,” Sally, at the answering service said, “I really don’t want to bother him, So why don’t I talk to you instead? I too know the fear, Of loving a man in blue, My eyes are now so old Though I am only 22.” We talked about our men How they loved the badge and the blue, My tears fell as I told her How I had buried mine, pregnant and also 22. Though I had buried him 21 years to this day, My sorrow just seemed to grow Instead of quietly fading away. When at times I’d feel so sad and alone, I’d call the police chaplain And hear his caring voice on the phone. After a few more minutes Another call came ringing in, Though it was very late, Sally is asked to call the police chaplain. A man in blue has fallen, Losing the final fight, His wife will now have only her tears, To accompany her through the endless night. I wondered about this woman, Who was about to have her heart broken in two, Asking God to comfort her, I wished that there was more that I could do. Wishing Sally a peaceful night I hear her phone hit the floor, With a cry I hear her sad words “The police chaplain is knocking on my door.”
Poem copyrighted © 2004 by Lydia Warner Miller Web site copyrighted © 2012 by Lydia Warner Miller Cell: 530-391-5056 Home: 530-644-5594 email: brokenbadge8@yahoo.com lydia-miller.artistwebsites.com Fine Art America.com search Lydia Miller 2379 Indian Wells Road Placerville, CA 95667 |
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