A mother mouse – her puppies nurse her
Lives in the wall of my old house
the blind kits – mouselings? – didn’t get myrrh
which would boot nothing for a mouse
She eats a piece of macaroni
I can say now the job was phony
My mother did my work for school
Gluing a glitter fleck like a jewel.
All-nibbling days you hold no terror
Turning our work to mothers milk
Better than killing those poor worms for silk!
Thank heaven for the amnesiac’s error
As little backward looking as a shark
Those nurslings hiding in the dark
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