Mouse in the House
©2011, Olan L. Smith
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"Mom! A mouse is in the house,"
He shrieks. "She has babies hanging from her teats.
Yes, from her nipples," he repeats.
"Cotton! Kill that mouse."
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My wife implores. "I'll not have a mouse in my house."
"Where is it?" I ask.
As I go about my task
To hunt an invisible aggravation that dares to enter our congregation.
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"It's headed for the kitchen
Carrying her brood,
Isn't that a bitchin'?"
My wife articulates as she adjusts her blouse.
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Bent on all fours I scan the floor
Looking under cabinets from door-to-door
My keen vision with its tri-focal revision searches for such an untimely visitor
As I peer beneath the refrigerator.
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To my surprise and to the she mouse, too
I gaze upward just inches from our flooring
We stare eye-to-eye, the mouse and I—
She applies the brakes, all fours reversing
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Noses-to-noses, personality-to-personality
Is hunter and quarry both with expressions wide-eyed.
Fear and amusement directly from
A "Tom and Jerry" cartoon, who says there is no originality.
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She skates closer, her turn about gear
Falls short upon our glassy-floor, I fear.
I laugh as she scurries away
And I say, "I'll see you, Mom Mouse, perhaps another day."
YOU ARE READING
Journey Home
PoetryJourney Home c.2013, Olan L. Smith Journey Home is a collection of poems that is a personal search for my spiritual home. I go about this search with the tools of poetry using the English language as my map. Love, peace and freedom, Olan L. Smith
