The mouse crept beneath a window,
hushed footfalls ringing with regrets –
cheese (oddly placed) left untouched,
cats (strangely absent) go unseen,
cold mists (often intoxicating) left outside.
The moon acts traitor to the day,
exiling sun pillars to memories,
its cryptic desire for dark
in a world teeming with low-lying rodents
(best left unnoticed) puzzles the thoughtful.
We chose the sun (tickling our necks)
as we face another day living
in the audacious light where yesterdays
and we get another chance
between cheese or cats or cold mists
or creeping in the night
clamoring for the sun.