A poem – “Mouse Dreams”

Snow and ice over long grass
First Snowfall

“Mouse Dreams”

Beneath the covers
of snow and multicolored
leaves, mice dream warm dreams.

Grasses form their beds,
gathered on thick mattresses:
sweet, late-summer seeds.

In winter colors,
now, the world is white and black…
brown in hope of spring.

Copyright ©  2015-11-16, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.
All rights reserved.

Most field mice don’t make it to their second year of life, but in protected areas they can live years longer. As in our house as we were growing up.

There were lots of cats in our home, and they came and went as they pleased. And so Mother Cat would go outdoors of an evening, catch a field mouse or house mouse, and bring it inside (with our mother’s cooperation) and dow into the basement, where she would gather her kittens around her and teach them how to attack a mouse. Inevitably, some mice were wiser and more skillful at getting away from kittens than the kittens were in catching mice.

And so we had a mouse population long after the last of the cats had died and been buried. I was fortunate not to have personal encounters with them. I did, however, keep pet mice for some years. Mice are nice people. — Lizl

I wrote this for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Challenge #71: Cover & Color, but it really belongs here. I am not sure these three haiku qualify as “fleeting moments” involving nature…Unless the mice are dreaming about summertime and running through the green grass.

I probably need more coffee. Good morning!




3 thoughts on “A poem – “Mouse Dreams”

  1. I like “Mouse Dreams,” the verse and the narrative. I like to say “Mouse Dreams,” too. The interplay described between mice and cats or the lack thereof (the lack of interplay, though I guess the eventual lack of cats, too) is engaging and informative. My nineteen-year-old cat died almost two years ago. She was a rescue, a grey-and-tan tortoise shell, and quickly (first night) became the monarch of the household. She used to bring me pieces of rodentia about which she was pleased. Her name was Hannah. In her last year, she slowed down greatly, spending most of her time in bed (mine) and watching the world go by. That’s when a field mouse came by to visit, almost daily. Ironically, Hannah and the mouse had the same fur coloring. The mouse was pleasant company overall, growing bolder with each appearance since neither the cat nor I made moves to stop it. Only one mouse, though I guess one mouse means more. Anyway, after my cat died, the mouse stopped coming by. I have no idea what that means. Thank you!


    • Oh, my, yes! They are so pleased to show off their achievements. Like children with good report cards! And they expect / live on praise. So much more fattening than mouse parts is ample appreciation of the food dispenser. It was nice of your mouse to entertain your cat, even after Hannah was too old to make a convincing dash for her. They must have had fine chats together, especially toward the end. Camaraderie among the household residents makes for low stress and kindly manner both within and outside the home. Perhaps another, older rescue cat would attract the attention of another mouse? Would that be worth investigating?

      Considering Samantha’s attitude toward our resident backyard Rabbit, she’s not going to attract any mice at all.


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