that hushed house in a blind of evergreens
waits for your glance.
Who else would notice what secrets
rustle through cracks in the wall?
You should sneak in—but you won’t.
There is something
you can’t chance losing.
You might not find
old silver coins.
It may have been inhabited by a hermit
who couldn’t repair or lock a door,
or a circle of gangsters
cranking out $20 bills.
Driving by with friends
you don’t say a word.
If this was discussed over coffee
the first thing you know,
hefty guys with blue-prints
and crafty bull-dozers
would cruise right in.
Soon there would be nothing left but grey dust
sifting through weeds,
and shattered boards
with their nails bared.