Submitted by Cynthia Pitman
A hapless mouse
has set up housekeeping
in the kitchen flour bin.
He gnawed on the rotting drawer-front
until he could let himself in,
then settled in the corner,
secure from the cold.
I think it would be fine, and good, and noble
if I, too, were to land-grab
a flour bin somewhere
and stake out my territory —
not to escape the cold,
but to escape the smothering heat
that radiates from this stove.
I would powder myself in soft white flour,
then run out wild and ransack the snow.
About the Poet
Cynthia Pitman has had poetry published in Literary Yard and Right Hand Pointing. The title of the RHP issue,The White Room, was from her poem, and the artwork was designed around it. She has poetry forthcoming inAmethyst Review and Postcard Poems and Prose, and a short story forthcoming in Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Art.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
Gladly, I will be wearing the clothing of this poem all day long.
I love ths ending if thus, and the imagery of your words ☺
I love the ending of this (sorry for the typos above) 😟
Thank you both so much. As you know, it’s so wonderful when your words lead to connections. It’s nice to know they’re not all alone out there.