“That bloody burglar alarm’s been on the blink

since early morning.” Nobody’s heard it but God

and whatsoever ghosts frequent the grounds

in the wee hours of the dead of night.

“The perps have probably already scarpered.”

The cops conclude. The gamekeeper and gov’nor

scratch their heads and wonder how simple robbers

could’ve been so smart to slip the knot of not-

so-inexpensive security devices

and not alerted the cops. Heads probably

will roll in several quarters over this.

Boss thinks. The ghost rewards the heir apparent

to the estate with a quite vicious but friendly

poke in the ribs. Feels like a cold hand clasping

his heart: a ghost of his future stomping

unwittingly over his grave. He shudders.

It’s nothing. Doesn’t mention it. He’ll check

his blood pressure later that day. Book cardio tests.