I dreamt I was a mouse …
When nightfall came, the shed went quiet as
the potter left his tools behind, his bench
a clutter with his day’s work done. He’d put
some flowers in and other buds, and left
the sweet pea seeds behind—tomorrow’s work.
Tonight we mice will do some work ourselves,
and I’m a scout to look—the coast is clear.
They know that danger lurks in shadows, so
they send me, new recruit, and watch me go,
and wait for me to chirp to call them near.
I creep up table legs and stop, then delve
into to the unsealed packets for my perks—
some loose strewn seeds. I pouch tonight’s first theft,
then lean into a handle, tuck my foot
beneath, and sniff the space. My nostrils clench
the moisture that the still night air now has.
And then I see the perfect prize I seek:
the sweet pea seeds I’ll stuff inside my cheek.