"Brothers and Sisters in Blue"
By Nyomi Rose Stone
Everyone is quick to judge,
A police officer in uniform.
The job is harder than you think.
From 10-codes to Jargon,
It’s having the responsibility to protect the community.
From robbers to terrorists,
The line of duty isn’t easy.
My brother, my friend, or my relative,
Puts his uniform on almost daily.
As a symbol to protect you and to honor the law.
He may carry a gun, or a Taser.
He also carries countless lives on his shoulders.
He may shoot his first gun on duty,
Or may shoot his final round.
My sister, my friend, or my relative,
Puts her uniform on almost daily.
She may be a mother, or a wife,
Yet she still serves.
She carries countless lives on her shoulders.
She may shoot her first gun today,
But it could also be her last.
Everyone is quick to judge,
A police officer in uniform.
Not only do we enforce the law,
We put our lives on the line for you.
Some do not get to come home,
To their spouse and children.
They do not live to see them grow.
They cannot teach their kids how to ride a bike,
Or how to throw a football.
They cannot attend their graduations,
Or their wedding ceremonies.
Everyone is quick to judge,
A police officer in uniform.
Many brothers and sisters in blue leave too soon.
Some fail to realize that they’re just like you,
Some are mothers and fathers,
Some are sisters and brothers,
Some are single parents,
Who leave their children behind.
All for YOU.
To protect YOU.
To serve YOU.
To honor YOU.
They put their lives on the line for YOU.
Never forget our fallen brothers and sisters,
Who cannot witness another day.
Who fell on the line of duty.
Thank you.
"I am a Criminal Justice student at Nicolet College."
* * * * * * * * * *
"The Enticement"
By Shanna Ahlfs
This callous wind glides against my skin
Aching for the warmth within
As my footsteps rupture
The protective cover
Of the hibernating ground
That goes undisturbed by the sound
Of the crunch echoing beside the trees
Slowly I begin to freeze
This suffocating wind wraps around my skin
As I stand among my kin
Watching the flames dance
In a state of trance
The newborn air
Chokes the trees in despair
Scents of ash and pine
Taste of unsalted brine
This biting wind nips at my skin
On its face lies a charming grin
Waking the flames from their slumber
Causing the wind to encumber
While the fallen trees cackle their last breath
Concerned with death
The cold wind flees
Becoming nothing but a breeze
"I am a 2005 graduate from Nicolet College (Associate in Administrative Assistant). I am 31 years old, and last fall I returned to school through Southern New Hampshire University's online English and Creative Writing Program. I wrote this poem while at my family's cabin in northern Minnesota, around New Year's Eve."
