High Speed Chase


Two cops round the corner,
high-powered rifles poised beside their faces.

They’re speed walking down
the icy dead-end lane, coming right at me.

“Why the guns?” I ask, outside
in the cold, curious about the blaring sirens.

“There’s a man loose with a gun,”
one answers, distractedly, as he shuffles past.

Two burglars have crashed
their truck into my neighbor’s yard,

and a man lays hurt on the ground.
Cops scurrying down the embankment.

My boy is in the doorway, with the dog,
a look of deep worry surging in his young face.

I take them both inside. Lock the door.
What now? I am surprised to find I’m thrilled

by the question. Let’s go get the bastard,
a voice answers. Take the dog and track him down.