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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