Mouse Poem

I am unsure

if sound or movement

alerts me to

you, scuttling like a thief along

the door's other side, a shadow

in the arrow-slit beneath it. I see you now,

gray mouse, poking your thin head

into my room, all simplicity of purpose,

whiskers questioning the air.

There are no crumbs for you , I swept

just this morning. Shoo, go away!

You are the arrogant one, aren't you,

wriggling inside and darting along the wall.

You have but half-a-tail, testament I presume

to some previous arrogance and a farmer's wife,

well, what am I to do with you?

You are quick, but I am quicker.

The great swallowing darkness terrifies you,

no doubt: imprisoned, writhing, suffocating, terrified,

alarmed, dismayed, horrified, hectored, panicked,

(spooked)

how many synonyms are there for the consternation

you must know now? I feel your little heart racing

in my palm. Relax. It is only the gray t-shirt I never

wear. There, see, it's better here in the flower garden

in the shade. You stand a moment, baffled, then

waddle beneath a spreading fern.

Stay away now, arrogant fellow. We have a cat.

Donny Davis, June 2007