Locked Out

When we locked up the house at night,

We always locked the flowers outside

And cut them off from the window light.

The time I dreamed the door was tried

And brushed with buttons upon sleeves,

The flowers were out there with the thieves.

Yet nobody molested them!

We did find one nasturtium

Upon the steps with bitten stem.

I may have been to blame for that:

I always thought it must have been

Some flower I played with as I sat

At dusk to watch the moon down early.