Poem of the Day


Sorry Notes

by Helen Hagemann

In the morning when I walked outside

it was like stepping back into a previous

spring, one year ago, and counting on ten

fingers the number of mice our male cat

had dropped at the back door. So I wasn’t

surprised this year to see another mouse,

already in rigor mortis, forepaws together

as if in prayer; exhaustion showing on its

face, as if flung from a far universe

and the intensity of a cat’s playful tease.

So now, with notebook and pen, I’m writing

sorry notes to all the dead mice whose souls

must have lifted up that day from their small

graveyard of parsley, basil or mint. And a

final “sorry” to the latest offering, its tiny

grey coat pasted on terracotta; held there for

the author’s pen to record, either from pity or

sympathy, one word the mouse would never hear.

2 thoughts on “Poem of the Day

  1. Thank you for this one – children are quite capable of extending to a contemplation of death. My 11 year old grandson will appreciate this one. ‘You know Noni it’s not just the cute & stupid that turns us on!’ Robyn Youl.

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