The folks were traveling out of town.
A single light burned in the house,
and no one there to watch the place
but the lion knocker on the door.
The street light flickered steadily
but did not steal the knockers gaze.
He brooded high up on his perch,
and snarled at the stony steps.
The sound of feet upon the walk
and voices hissing quietly.
The lion knocker crouched in place
as darkness took the form of men.
The tall one fumbled with a piece
of wire. The bald one held a light.
The knocker glared into their eyes
warning them to go away.
The wire scratched inside the lock
searching for the pins. The bald
man looked straight in the lion’s eyes
and smirked, he felt no bit of fear.
Ring! Ring! Whizz! Clang!
The wire popped the lock, and now
the lion bared his fangs as through
the house rang roars from the alarm.
The bald man tripped on the other’s leg,
the tall man leapt off of the porch.
And like a heard of antelope
they ran sporadic in the night.
The blue light shone out in the street,
and still the siren rang inside.
Amidst the fuss the lion sat
a silent watcher in the shadow.
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