In Confidence

                      for Rich Bartee

                         By Mervyn Taylor

I try to picture him in blue uniform
And almost, but not quite, see him
Writing a ticket while engaging
The driver in friendly conversation

I hear him laugh, and whisper that
He didn't ever like arresting anyone,
Would much rather talk about how
Love makes us do foolish things,

The music in his voice coming
Out of the speakers of his ears, and
Then, when the day came that duty
Asked him to lie, he couldn't, the gun

Weighing too much on his hip, the pin
From the badge going right through
The vest into his skin, and after they
Discharged him for not upkeeping

The wall of silence, from that day he
Couldn't stop talking, like a disciple
Whose tongue had been loosened,
Going from borough to borough

The gospel printed on small cards.
And when he ran out, the words
Coming and coming like a stream
Like a song with one line beginning

In the desert and ending at the oasis
Or wherever you had to get off the train.
He spoke in confidence, as if someone
Had given him a secret to tell you,

That he wanted you to pass on, and
Even after you closed the door to
Your room, the sound came through
The wood, saying prepare, the guest

Inside is an impostor, the real
Long lost brother
Is on his way.

Mervyn Taylor (poet, educator)