Don’t Move the Mouse by Ray Stearn

Don’t Move the Mouse


Sharing this dugout with me

Is the mouse, beautiful, small,

Still, limp, lifeless, dead.

Oh! Don’t move the mouse

For she has my soul

Contained within her.

Short days ago she lived as I lived,

Ate my food with me,

Slept when I slept.

Cowered with me when the shells exploded.

Friend, confidante, comrade.

Now dead.

So please

Don’t move the mouse


© Ray Stearn 18th November 2020

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