poetry

perspective

perspective

on this first full green-blue day of panicked spring
I cup a little brown mouse in my palm
put my lips to her round warm ear
and whisper
until every last fear has exited my chest
in a slow stream of warm urgent breath
carrying bits of my heart and mind
into her delicate nervous system

she blinks
twitches her whiskers
pats my thumb with her paw
as if to say
oh sweet one
imagine having a nestful of blind babies
surrounded by silent owls
you never know
when disappointment may come
all you can do
is greet the sun
with whatever semblance of thanks you can muster
any day it deigns to shine

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