Baxter Black: Rodeo Mom
On the Edge of Common Sense
His mother was glad he wasn’t hurt worse.
As it was he went out on a stretcher.
She sat in the stands and swallowed a curse.
Holding her heart and trying to catch’er
Breath that was sucked from her very being.
She rose like a wraith, guided by loving
Eyes wide open but not really seeing.
Floating, she thought, but pushing and shoving
To get to his side as others gave way.
Close calls flashed through her mind as she hurried,
He’d always survived but each night she’d pray
Seeking an ally. God knew she worried.
Dreams. Horns as heavy as railroad ties,
Battleship hooves that smoked and tore black holes
In the flesh of her babies. Terrorized
She’d wake, shaking until she gained control.
She’d signed permission in his younger years.
“NOTE: WE TAKE NO RESPONSIBILITY”
Signed it. Released him into atmospheres
Uncharted. Knowing his mortality.
She hasn’t had to sign for quite a while
She thinks as she reaches the ambulance.
He’s grown. She takes his hand and tries to smile.
And reminds herself this is what he wants.
He squeezes her hand and grins sheepishly.
“Sign this form,” the driver is declaring.
Once more she signs her name. An irony
That spares not the mother of the daring.