I am a mouse and no man

trembling nerves

every sinew strung

the warm flesh


life rippling

caught like air

between the hairs

electric and miniscule

cupped in two hands

nose a flutter

bead eyes blinking

seeking in the palms

some sign

just gimme some crease

some indent

so I can know

And let me not loose

nor let me lose

in the pitter patter

anxious curious small

You are holding

You are holding

You hold.

One thought on “Mouse

  1. “Just gimme some crease.” I enjoy that line, though it made me think of faces instead of palms for some reason. In our faces over time there are creases of surprise, of joy, of anxiety, of worry, of laughter, of squinting under the sun. God loves creases and wrinkles, else why would he give them to all of us? Wrinkles are proof of life lived, proof of stories. I am a part of the story of my parents wrinkles: of their joy and concern and care for me. In God’s face, were it to be seen, I think we’d see the same for all of us.

    Liked by 1 person

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