Spies Poem by Cecil (cj) Krieger

He was only nine years old
A secret spy
Watching the world
Between the spaces
Of an old pair
Of wooden venation blinds

A clever spy he was
Watching the enemy
In a blue uniform
Pick up and place information
Into a tin mailbox
On the front of his house

He watched his neighbor
Casually walking her dog
While in his mind
He thought to himself
Must be out
Searching for dissidents

Across the street
There was a gathering
Of young boys
Trying to cause disorder
By blasting this awful music
Throughout the neighborhood

Yes… there were spies
All about him
But he was going to
Save the day
By notifying the proper authorities
Right after lunch
And his afternoon nap