a mouse in the kitchen
but no chaos in the house
we coax the little guy into
a glass cup
and gently carry him out the door
down the steps
across the yard
to the cover of some brush
all the while i tenderly sing
‘it’s ok, baby, it’s ok, it’s ok.’
and if humanity has the capacity
to reassure creatures who don’t understand our language
can we try to speak a little more kindly to each other?
when a small animal scratching from inside the walls
wakes you up like
your cat scratching at your apartment door
before six am
it is always a good idea to
heat up some coffee
and go outside with your kip and your dog
to watch the sun rise
(even if you can’t see the sun past the tree line)
what is it about
the rattle of an old farm house
basement heater
that makes me feel so
automatically
cozy?
kipventures 