Tuesday, September 20, 2016


Her youngest son had, with the best will in the world,
Made her listen to The Lone Ranger five times a week
For six years, so my grandmother Esther recognized
The spirit come to escort her to the next world.
It was Tonto. He was riding Scout, who nodded to her.
She had always suspected Scout was a nicer horse
Than the high-strung Silver, who got all the attention.
Tonto, she knew, spoke every Indian language,
As well as English and some Spanish, so when he smiled
And said bakumen aoyf, Fraulein, she did not gasp
Or ask him where he had learned to speak Yiddish
With a strong Galician lilt, but got up behind
And settled herself to ride through the Badlands.

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