Photo credit: Wayne Hebb

The young are free, they say,
Free from the past because
They have little or none
Free from doubts for nothing is
Impossible
Free from deciding who loves them
And who they love because 
Love is universal
Free from all those things
Which make life difficult
Free to face each day
With wonder and awe
Living life’s secret without knowing
Aging is easy,
What’s hard is
Keeping the child inside.
                        

We sat in the limo
Somber faces, some talking
In quiet murmurs
As we travelled to 
The stadium 
Where the funeral would 
Proceed for two fallen officers
My nephew, one of these
Brave souls, who
Responded to a house disturbance
Then shot dead
Sadness and anger
Lay within us
As motorcycled police led us
Through cold wet streets,
Crammed with troops of police
And first responders
Standing at attention as we passed
Police cars, lights flashing
Lined each side
People in toques and winter coats
Stood on sidewalks, some saluting
Others with hands on their chests
A homeless man leaning on a post
In front of Ranch’s Bar and Grill
Shivered slightly 
His hand laid over his heart
A woman in a purple coat saluted, 
tears escaping
Forming wet lines in her make-up
A man video taping with his cell phone
Took a draw from his cigarette
Blowing a trail of smoke 
Orange leaves blanketed the sidewalks
Where teenagers stood
Some silent
Some with nervous smiles
A woman with a golden setter
Watched as we passed,
The dog searching for that
Something it sensed
Nearing the stadium
We passed through a gauntlet
Of police, fire, ambulance attendants
All standing, some saluting, some with
Heads bowed in prayer
Stoic faces
A few with that far off look
At the stadium, more officers
Different uniforms but one sole purpose
Bag pipes, playing a poignantly 
Beautiful tune 
As we left the limo to attend
A celebration of life that began with death.
                        

The sun shone bright
Yet its warmth could not
Cut through the wind and cold
As I walked the trail behind
The houses
It was my escape from
The city, away but not too far
Like a child on their first walk
Keep walking, I thought
If for nothing but to keep warm
A hulking man shuffled toward me
Wearing old clothes, with unfashionable holes
Blanketed by a ratty full-length sweater
A woman’s sweater, I thought
I had seen him once before on this trail
Wearing the same clothes
I said ‘Hello’ as I passed
He grunted something, perhaps hello,
As he continued shuffling
With no purpose other than
To keep warm