A Poem

Comments (0) Issue 6, Poetry, Writing

Deklan O'Connor
Is a maze,
And its players merely mice.
Soft and skittish mice,
Nose every corner, every crack.
Smack their nose they run away.
Open hands and they walk around.
Any plants in your poem?
Mice like to hide
Any cheese in your poem?
Mice like to eat
A fork in your road?
A mouse will make a decision.
Especially if you clap
Right when they nose down a path.
But they will always crawl right back
In case the other side has more snacks

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