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Disturbed

While you slept,
I came in by the window.
While you slept,
I used that ladder there.
Dangerous thing, a ladder.
Nowadays you can’t
be too careful.

When I was a child,
we slept with unlocked doors.
When I was a child,
we left the windows open
and let the cool evening breezes
brush over us and smooth
our days into dreams in slumber.

6 Comments Post a comment
  1. Sigh-
    How eloquently you have captured that unease in the air…

    November 11, 2011
    • When I was a kid, my Nannie’s door used to always be unlocked, night and day. I know people who still do that. As for me, I’ve lived in my house for 15 years and nothing has ever happened here, but I still lock the door, even if I’m taking a walk around the field out front – you just never know. And you can’t even see my house from the road (or maybe that’s worse?). I only stopped locking my car door overnight this year.

      I tend to feel that things are getting worse and worse in the world, and maybe they are. But I wrote that in 1993, so I don’t really know if that is reality or just our perception. Sometimes I think we have too much access to information – I mean the kind that only gets put out there for ratings and sensationalism. It doesn’t help us necessarily, but it sure does frighten us and make us less trustful of our neighbors.

      November 12, 2011
  2. Wow, that’s scary…

    November 11, 2011
    • It is kind of creepy – the guy is crawling into your room, all the while reminiscing about how much safer it used to be. I don’t know why, but I like this poem despite the ick factor.

      November 12, 2011
      • It’s a good poem because it strikes a nerve in us all. We want to be safe in our homes!!

        November 12, 2011
        • I’m sorry, what was that? All I heard was “it’s a good poem…” and then something happened in my brain. I think it was a happy dance. 🙂

          But, that’s true about striking a nerve. When I read it, I also hear the guy emphasizing the I, like, “when I was a child…”, almost accusatory, as though his being in your home is somehow your fault, or society’s fault, or just the way things are now, and not his own evil doing. Something about that gets me.

          November 12, 2011

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