Sunday, August 30, 2009

I hear voices

Had a busy day yesterday so I apologize for not sending a blog.

I became a police officer in the mid-1960s and stopped in 2005 when I became a County Commissioner. I had about 30 years of active service as a police officer in New York and Colorado as well as being Chief Investigator for the District Attorney for three years and the elected County Coroner for eight years. One of my main duties in all of that was to do death investigations. My district went from Basalt near Aspen to Leadville to Vail to Breckenridge and to Georgetown. I enjoy writing and especially enjoy writing poetry. I have about twelve volume's completed and try to write something every day. At times I put it into my BLOG. Here is a short poem about thoughts I have as I drive around my old law enforcement territory up and down the Interstate 70 corridor west of Denver.

Sometimes they cry out.

The baby along the road by Floyd Hill. The man in the culvert under the Interstate. They all cry out.

The waitress who lost her head as she flew out of her BMW after she hit a tree in a drunk stupor.

The young boy who drowned near my house and we never found his body. He says "find me" twenty five years later.

The beautiful young model from Denver who decided to take off all of her clothes and lay under a pine tree after taking hundreds of pills. I can still see her in my mind as I drive by the exit to Alice (St. Mary's Glacier).

The many young men and women who lay under the snow from an avalanche saying, "I can't breathe" "Come quick."

My job was to call the death.

My job is not to keep hearing their voices.

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