A TALE OF MICE

Two plump field mice huddled
Together against a wall.
A probe with my toe
Did not elicit much movement.

Despite their moribund state
I closed the fire door
Limiting any escape 
To the track beneath.

I returned a day later to find
Both dead, but no longer
Entwined. One had moved
Behind the adjacent door.

With a gloved hand I flung
First one, then t’other
Into the deep grasses
Alongside the house…

Bolstering the food chain
By several ounces for
The benefit, I thought
Of those whirling vultures

That paint elaborate scrolls
Of an arcane cursive script
In the skies above…ever
Seeking more dead flesh.