Driving to the park with the mouse
in a Havahart trap, I tell her,
“I could have executed you

for the crime of invading our house,
but I’m giving you a chance to live
a little longer.”

I let that sink in and add,
“You may not believe this, but
we have something in common.

As an old man, I’ve also been given
a little more time to live for no reason
that I can understand.”

When I hear the mouse rustle in the trap
I say, “I’m sure you’d point out
that being dropped off in strange woods

with nothing but the fur on your back
isn’t much like me stepping into another day of old age, but I have to tell you,

sometimes I’m as full of dread
as you must be. Here’s how I see it—
what you and I are facing

is just another one of life’s adventures
to be enjoyed if at all possible.”
I park the car and carry the trap

to the base of a large oak tree.
When I open the door to let her out,
she refuses to go. I sympathize,

but I shake her out into brown leaves
where she crouches, shivering,
not far from my foot, her eyes as bright

as two drops of ink.
I feel the ache of a parent leaving
a shy child off on her first day of school.

“You’ll be okay,” I say,
almost believing it, and drive away.

+ + + + + +

[Please let me know what you think – tscrider@gmail.com]