Three Poems

Death of a Field Mouse

At the edge of my eye
the size of a bird’s head
fell off the pavement

like a drunk. Dazed,
he let me watch him.
He stumbled, legs splayed,

but then eyes narrowed
like a cat’s in the sun.
He turned one way,

then another, then tried
just being still
with a heartbeat

wider than his body.
He leapt towards me –
stopped. Circled himself

like he was becoming
clockwork, and someone
had turned a key.
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