Mouse House
If I could talk to the mice
I’d say, leave will ya,
so I don’t have to kill ya.
The walls in this old house
are noisy, evoking spirits
in the midnight hours
startling me from sleep,
my deranged mind imagines
supernatural creatures
stalking my chamber,
but lo, on the floor
scurrying to the door
he’s gnawed in the wall,
a mouse, furry gray,
a mouse house
inside my house,
of course,
he can’t stay,
but he may not
feel that way.
Copyright © Barbara Cotter | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment