Holmes Minor

Dear Mama

I met a man today who’s going to change my life.
He caught me at that trick, you know, the one I do
to put a crust inside me, cut the hunger knife.
He said, “When you’ve tired of tricks, I’ve a job for you.”

It weren’t a thing: to follow a fellow, and see
just where he goes ‘n’ where he don’t, an easy gig.
The coin he dropped was hard enough for me
when bit and I knew I was onto something big.

I gave report that night, every move that mark’d made,
and when I’d done my tale, I looked ‘im in the eye.
“’Twas you, dressed up,” I said. “Now, Mister, am I paid?”
He dropped more coins upon my palm and gave a cry.

“Young Master Wiggins, you’re the general I seek!
Forgive the trick I played today. It was mere test.
There’s a true job waiting, and more at end of week.
Recruit some troops but choose only your trusted best.”

And so it was, and so it is. Your boy, once lost
is found once more. I know that your sweet face looks down
and smiles with pride. And no matter the cost
there’ll be a flower Sundays on your patch of ground.

The man, name of Holmes, calls me ‘whip smart’ like you did.
He teaches me, and I teach him, and we get on.
And you don’t need to fret no more about your kid.
I just wish you weren’t, well, you know, quite so gone.

Respectably,

Billy