poetsday

The minutiae of Life & the two minute poem


mouse

my mouse does not move; i tried coaxing it
revolving its little wheel, tapping
its red bottom gently - then much harder
still. it does not move; not even a twitch.

the IT man explains to me kindly
how mouses have a tendency to die
so, removing the corps, he buries it
in a dog-eared box without ceremony
in a graveyard at the foot of the stairs.

we must hang onto civilization
or what will the future make of us
and our multitude of little mass graves.