There’s definitely not enough poetry on this blog recently.
This morning, while walking back from the village, I heard something scuttle across the road and turned to look, only to find it was just a dry leaf blown by the wind, not an interesting small creature that would inspire me to write something new.
Then again, the scampering noise and the slight incongruity reminded me of the white mice in this piece, which dates all the way back to the year 2000:
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