Is It My Window?

Is It My Window?

It's 11 PM

It must be cold, it must be dark

My house is warm, soft and safe

My children asleep

I’m turning in

When all at once

 I hear the sound

A small, soft tap

Again and again

My heart starts to pound

Is it my window?

Who it is?

Where are they?

What should I look for?

It’s 11:05 PM

It’s turned cold, it’s very very dark

My house feels frail, the windows look stark

I am a mother with little children

So I must be brave

I creep outside and find you there

Sitting in your car

A few yards away

With a thread to the coin, coin taped to my window

Laughing at my terror

It’s just a prank do you say?

Oh yes! I can see you

But do you see me?

My confusion?  

My fear?

To tape that coin, would any window have worked tonight?

Or is there more to your laugh than I am able to hear?

Do you know I visit temples or mosques or churches?

Have you watched me and know I have sun splashed arms?

Or have you heard my voice lilt with accented charm?

Did you notice my name on the plate out front?

It’s 11:10 PM

I’m scared tonight

Not for your silly pranks and smiles

But for the thoughts that ricochet in my mind

All I need to know as I stand barefoot on my porch

Would any window have worked to tape your coin, young one?

Or is it only my window that beckons you tonight?