Spring at the Old Summer Cabin

The door creaks open
leaks air stained by stale

the wrong scamper here
feisty mice chitter on the floor

a squirrel’s fox-hued tail
whiskers circlets at my feet.

I wish these interlopers
into natural nests while

I re-wind the mobius strip
reel back my missing.

Morning lights a shadow
a lump of non-lustrous fur

somber as a bastard child
mourning jumps the bar.

quick watercolor by Sue

North of Summer, Poetry and A Near Year of Tumblewords Blog are available at Lulu Publishing