Alright with Me

It was just another day.
On the job.
Flagged down by another citizen.
Nothing special.

How can I help you, sir?
Are you alright?
And he leans into my car
And he shakes my hand.

A city cop by experience,
I’m still adjusting to this.
But, I make myself smile
And I shake the extended hand.

And then he starts in.
He tells me of his terribly ill
Little boy in Kentucky.
He doesn’t know if he’ll be alright.

He tells me, the stranger in uniform,
That he had to leave his little boy
In the hospital there and come back here
To work so he can pay the bills.

And he smiles and he thanks me.
And I can’t imagine why, but he
Tells me. He says thank you, brother,
For all you do. For our community. For us.

And he tells me of his family members who
Were cops before me. And of his service
To his country, my country.
And I tell him I will pray for him, his family.

And that is all. I drive off. He is just one man.
But he is real to me now. No longer a stranger.
And, even though he is only half right about me,
He is alright with me.

-- 02/26/2008 Clifton, AZ