Poems about mouse
So I Can Touch The Spaces
they have a little odor that to me
presuming me to be a mouse -
what word had they, for me?
for treason not of his, but life's,
one art to recognize, must be,
that we can touch the spaces
so i can see which way to go
and they no more remember me
This Way, I Wake
not even god can heal
he, too, did fly away
but, were it two
because he knows and
and the day that i despaired
that every time i wake
this way, i keep from missing
why, i have lost, the people know
but, what of that?
unworthy, that a thought so mean
neither he to me
presuming me to be a mouse -
Seek Not In Me The Bit I Don't
seek not in me the bit i capital,
i don't want it girdled by rabbit and mouse,
than i can raise my voice or want to lift
to ease away they have it, with a laugh,
a quiet light, and then not even that,
but outer space,
then there were three there, making a dim row,