#146 ‘Gone but
not gone’
This is to let
you know
we found the
mouse.
It was on the
floor
of the wardrobe
under the black
hose
of the vacuum
cleaner,
its tiny belly
full of green poison
and its head once
swimming
in a final mousy
confusion
lifted a little
as if to sniff
what cannot be reached.
It was soft to
pick up, but still held
its shape and
colour,
a furriness too
that told of a
life of rubbing
round corners,
squinches and shelves.
Yes, the mouse
has been thrown out
into the sandy
yard in a plastic bag
held down by a
rock.
A smell, though,
persists
in the walls, in
the floor,
and along the
edges of one door.
We wait and hope
now
to become so
used to it
that it will
disappear in time.
Good one...
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