The Mouse


From behind my back
I heard a squeak.
It came I thought,
from behind that tree.

I turned and looked,
but nought could see.
a creature was surely
hiding from me.

I ventured closer
and unearthed a stone.
And sure enough,
‘twas a mouse’s home.

I viewed it closely.
The mouse looked riled.
I reached towards it.
The mouse got wild.

It bit my finger
And caused some pain.
As if to say
don’t do that again.

So I backed away.
And replaced the stone.
He thanked me kindly
when I left his home.

1973, April

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