Burglars too were children once
Hand raised to the task
Like accountants and dentists
Which is how this old thief
Scaled his way onto your roof
Armed with a crowbar.
Yes, your roof! Did you think a pro
Would fall for those lamps on timers,
A Volvo in the drive six days straight?
And you ought to alarm those dormers.
It wouldn’t hurt to climb up here yourself
Now and then: You’ve got buckled shingles,
Clawed tarpaper, also a decent view
of Cassiopeia this time of year.
Or maybe you’ve no care
For such things.
I give you credit for that false-backed
Picture frame, those pearls and rings
In the sham vacuum cleaner bag—
Your neighbors still rely on wall safes
That snap to magnets like deadbolts.
Good thing I’m not in any rush.
I’ll try not to cause too much disorder.
You’ll hardly know I’ve called.
I only wish I might leave behind some questions
To be answered at your leisure. For instance,
Do you play that piano or is it for show
(A place to flaunt photos of your kids)?
They’re cute, by the way; wife too—
That’s just an observation, not a threat—
I like to believe we’re allies in a way,
Partners against the insurer, almost friends,
That you might ring the doorbell at daybreak
Wife and cute kids and valises all in tow,
That I’d shed my balaclava,
Stash my nylon gloves in the foyer closet
And welcome you into my home.