Linkback Poem: "These Here Are My Desires"
This is the linkback perk poem for the August 6, 2013 Poetry Fishbowl. If you link to the fishbowl, make a comment and include the URL to reveal a verse of this poem. If you link on different services, you can get multiple verses.
The poem comes from the July 2013 Crowdfunding Creative Jam. It was inspired by a prompt from
perfectworry and also fills the "parting ways" slot on my card for the
hc_bingo fest. It belongs to the series Walking the Beat.
All verses have been posted. Linkers include: LJ user rix_scaedu,
technoshaman,
janetmiles,
chanter_greenie, LJ user wyld_dandelyon,
thnidu,
perfectworry, LJ user natalief
"These Here Are My Desires"
It's hard, sometimes,
when a white car with a broad blue stripe
cruises through District E-13.
Dale leans on her cane,
trying to ignore the twinge in her knee
and the aching crater in her soul
where her career used to be.
Perhaps being a policewoman
is something she will always miss,
or perhaps it will fade with time.
She has spoken to other policevets
and knows that it could go either way.
The thin blue line is still there,
but Dale is on the other side of it now,
and most of her old support network
is out of reach in her new life.
It's hard, sometimes,
to part ways with everything she knew,
friends and colleagues left behind
along with the gun and the badge.
Dale misses the reassuring press
of their shoulders set beside hers.
Kelly is always here, though,
bumping gently against Dale,
her hands eloquent as she signs,
Are you okay, love?
I'm fine, Dale replies,
an outward flick of her spread hand.
It's not entirely true, not yet,
but it becomes more true every day.
Both women work hard to make it so.
Jamaica Plain helps too,
all green parks and cheerful streets,
culture spilling out over the sidewalks
and people smiling as they walk by.
For every parting of ways, there's a meeting.
It's hard, sometimes,
to find new ways of contributing.
Dale has this need to be of service,
has had it since she was a girl.
These here are my desires, she thinks,
looking at Kelly and their neighborhood.
The cane and the limp make it difficult
to do many of the things that she used to do.
Along with the policework has gone
the front-line activism that Dale and Kelly did,
replaced by petitions and online activities.
The gardening is a more recent discovery;
they like watching things grow and blossom.
Dale and Kelly walk through their neighborhood
seeing the people and the flowers,
and it's good, it really is.
Dale even has a litterbag slung over her shoulder,
knitted from tough cotton string, a gift
from the ladies at the synagogue who saw her
struggling to carry trash one-handed.
There are ways to make the difficult more doable.
It's hard, sometimes,
to remember how the world can change
when you aren't expecting it.
The patrol car rolls to a stop,
window lowering, and the cop inside asks,
"How goes the Code 19?"
Dale doesn't even know this tiny Asian guy,
who looks like a rookie fresh out of the Academy,
but her heart squeezes with pleasure anyhow.
"It's going well today," she replies.
"Barker just retired, and I'm taking over his beat,"
the kid says. "He said to watch out for you."
Dale and Kelly haven't spoken to Barker
since Dale's retirement party, hadn't been to his,
yet he cared enough to make the recommendation.
They lean easily against the car and chat
about the best paths for walking the beat here,
glad for a chance to touch old ties and make new ones.
Johnny Long turns out to be
first-generation Chinese-American,
eager to hear about the cultural mix in Jamaica Plain,
so they point out the Dominican restaurant El Embajador
and mention the new hair-braiding and bead shop.
Two boys coming out of the restaurant smile and wave.
It's hard, sometimes,
to remember that life was
ever anything other than this.
* * *
Notes:
The title of the poem is a line from "Roll Away Your Stone" by Mumford & Sons.
Within the Boston Police Department, District E-13 covers Jamaica Plain. You can read about their practice of community policing, in which Code 19 refers to walking through a neighborhood to keep in touch with people.
Police veterans strive to create a support network.
Read about American Sign Language.
Make your own string bag.
Jamaica Plain is a neighborhood in Boston.
El Embajador is a popular restaurant in Jamaica Plain.
The poem comes from the July 2013 Crowdfunding Creative Jam. It was inspired by a prompt from
perfectworry and also fills the "parting ways" slot on my card for the
hc_bingo fest. It belongs to the series Walking the Beat.
All verses have been posted. Linkers include: LJ user rix_scaedu,
technoshaman,
janetmiles,
chanter_greenie, LJ user wyld_dandelyon,
thnidu,
perfectworry, LJ user natalief
"These Here Are My Desires"
It's hard, sometimes,
when a white car with a broad blue stripe
cruises through District E-13.
Dale leans on her cane,
trying to ignore the twinge in her knee
and the aching crater in her soul
where her career used to be.
Perhaps being a policewoman
is something she will always miss,
or perhaps it will fade with time.
She has spoken to other policevets
and knows that it could go either way.
The thin blue line is still there,
but Dale is on the other side of it now,
and most of her old support network
is out of reach in her new life.
It's hard, sometimes,
to part ways with everything she knew,
friends and colleagues left behind
along with the gun and the badge.
Dale misses the reassuring press
of their shoulders set beside hers.
Kelly is always here, though,
bumping gently against Dale,
her hands eloquent as she signs,
Are you okay, love?
I'm fine, Dale replies,
an outward flick of her spread hand.
It's not entirely true, not yet,
but it becomes more true every day.
Both women work hard to make it so.
Jamaica Plain helps too,
all green parks and cheerful streets,
culture spilling out over the sidewalks
and people smiling as they walk by.
For every parting of ways, there's a meeting.
It's hard, sometimes,
to find new ways of contributing.
Dale has this need to be of service,
has had it since she was a girl.
These here are my desires, she thinks,
looking at Kelly and their neighborhood.
The cane and the limp make it difficult
to do many of the things that she used to do.
Along with the policework has gone
the front-line activism that Dale and Kelly did,
replaced by petitions and online activities.
The gardening is a more recent discovery;
they like watching things grow and blossom.
Dale and Kelly walk through their neighborhood
seeing the people and the flowers,
and it's good, it really is.
Dale even has a litterbag slung over her shoulder,
knitted from tough cotton string, a gift
from the ladies at the synagogue who saw her
struggling to carry trash one-handed.
There are ways to make the difficult more doable.
It's hard, sometimes,
to remember how the world can change
when you aren't expecting it.
The patrol car rolls to a stop,
window lowering, and the cop inside asks,
"How goes the Code 19?"
Dale doesn't even know this tiny Asian guy,
who looks like a rookie fresh out of the Academy,
but her heart squeezes with pleasure anyhow.
"It's going well today," she replies.
"Barker just retired, and I'm taking over his beat,"
the kid says. "He said to watch out for you."
Dale and Kelly haven't spoken to Barker
since Dale's retirement party, hadn't been to his,
yet he cared enough to make the recommendation.
They lean easily against the car and chat
about the best paths for walking the beat here,
glad for a chance to touch old ties and make new ones.
Johnny Long turns out to be
first-generation Chinese-American,
eager to hear about the cultural mix in Jamaica Plain,
so they point out the Dominican restaurant El Embajador
and mention the new hair-braiding and bead shop.
Two boys coming out of the restaurant smile and wave.
It's hard, sometimes,
to remember that life was
ever anything other than this.
* * *
Notes:
The title of the poem is a line from "Roll Away Your Stone" by Mumford & Sons.
Within the Boston Police Department, District E-13 covers Jamaica Plain. You can read about their practice of community policing, in which Code 19 refers to walking through a neighborhood to keep in touch with people.
Police veterans strive to create a support network.
Read about American Sign Language.
Make your own string bag.
Jamaica Plain is a neighborhood in Boston.
El Embajador is a popular restaurant in Jamaica Plain.