Wild Life

The raccoon who was a mouse

wearing a kitten face snuck

from beneath a blanket. It

hid and dodged, shadowing

her pursuit. The seeking was a

tunnel with no lighted end – that

morphed and stretched, dayless.

 

Beyond hallucinated kitten-faced answers

lurk deceitful corners, skittering

underfoot to trip her.  The masked

bandit of the quest chittered

in mocking gibberish.  Striped

flights of fancy whipped her

eyes in their cunning

disappearance.

 

Rascal drowns inquiry in

deluge by morning’s night.

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