Tuesday, October 8, 2013

A Field Mouse

I found her among the fallen leaves

in her patched smock

gathering  wisps of plume and vine,

bits of broken shell, some  pith and mud.


Her wild  nest was half wrought

along the fence row

and in need of more molding.


A squash--yellow sun

squinted through the trees

as I watched her work

plucking lint from my sleeve.


Blue dust clung to my fingers

until the brisk wind

swept it from my hand

into her service.


Stuff she could use

to further insulate

her nest, to secure


her birthing place

with fibers from the blouse

of another mother.

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