Hidden

Inside a "rock" that's very fake, We hid our extra key And there it sat with real rocks 'round Beneath a nearby tree. We've never used it; all the same, It's comforting to know It's always there, though sometimes topped With leaves or rain or snow. A landscape crew came by last week To neaten up our land. Today we saw the work they did And they deserve a hand. Except those stones all disappeared, With mulch piled there instead. The missing rock with key Made paranoia rear its head. They'll break into our house, I thought, Since often we're away. Of course they'd recognized That plastic rock where real ones lay. But then I got my trusty rake And moved that mulch around Until my bogus rock (with key!), Surprisingly, I found. A jump to a conclusion Often's quite a foolish thing And isn't worth the stress and worry That it tends to bring.