Old Mice In The House

by jamescarman

Old Mice In The House

Whistling quiet footsteps in the hallway

the numbing air was too much for the dog who was growing into an old age

and lacking the senses that it once had,

and the cat wished the grass was closer to home

in it’s mind and in the house which it could never fully prevail.

The old woman in the kitchen never spoke of the illness in her heart

but rather spoke of a passed love that once lived in her.

She never eats, but cooks non-stop,

hoping to fill her starving heart with something more than

sweat and tears.

These old mice in the house,

they’re not menacing or even aggressive towards one another.

They are just fragile eyes watching the paint come off the wall

hoping for the cold morning to come and blow away.

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