deepundergroundpoetry.com
the smallest life
The smallest life
In front of me on the narrow track leading into the bushes,
I picked up a tiny field mouse held in the palm of my hand
where it fell asleep.
The tiny life was white and brown had eyes, heart and lungs like me.
What what’s next? I could not stay here all day with outstretched arm
waiting for the mouse to awake
I put it in my pocket when hearing the sheep coming down the track.
When dusty wool had walked past, I put the hand in my pocket
the mouse was not there; one thing to hold a mouse in my hand,
another thing is to have to crawl around my body.
I took my trousers off; I took my shirt off, I stood there naked
as Adam in Paradise, no mouse.
I slowly dressed as butterflies flitted about the woods were enchanting
and I enjoyed my nudity it gave me a sense of freedom.
In front of me on the narrow track leading into the bushes,
I picked up a tiny field mouse held in the palm of my hand
where it fell asleep.
The tiny life was white and brown had eyes, heart and lungs like me.
What what’s next? I could not stay here all day with outstretched arm
waiting for the mouse to awake
I put it in my pocket when hearing the sheep coming down the track.
When dusty wool had walked past, I put the hand in my pocket
the mouse was not there; one thing to hold a mouse in my hand,
another thing is to have to crawl around my body.
I took my trousers off; I took my shirt off, I stood there naked
as Adam in Paradise, no mouse.
I slowly dressed as butterflies flitted about the woods were enchanting
and I enjoyed my nudity it gave me a sense of freedom.
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