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There’s a Mouse in this Poem

August 23, 2013

The mouse looked about, confused,

not knowing that he’d been dropped

into a poem.

He began sniffing, as was his wont,

at first for a means of escape,

but then, without warning,

oddly sensing familiar fragrances:

the tangy saltiness as one nears the ocean,

the sweet scent of lilacs in bloom,

the air just after rain.

.

The startled mouse scurried in circles

feeling almost weightless

as though he were on Mars,

the stars glittering madly

like diamonds in the velvet Martian sky,

its pale moons skittering along the horizon

like cue balls.

.

A gripping  anxiety overcame him

as when suddenly awakened from a dream,

the Nobel Prize denied just as you mount

the last step of the stage,

the air that sustains you

sucked from your lungs in a single gasp

at the sight of a long-forgotten childhood enemy

who is tugging at you, dragging you from

the safety of your sheets.

.

At last, the mouse probed his way out,

exhausted, spent,

like the school boy, lost,

trying to find out

what the poem really means.

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2 comments

  1. Love this!



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