There is you
and someone sure
you are a thief, watching you,
their mind full of scenerios of your malfeasance,
when all you want to do is look.
About this poem
I had a fascinating talk with a museum guard a few weeks ago. He talked about his training, and how they are trained to be thinking in terms of how every person in the room might try to steal or damage things.
“Even me, standing here next to you in an empty room?” I asked.
“Even you, standing next to me in an empty room.” he said.
I know people like that too. What a way to live.