"The Sentinel"

Memories remembered
Never forgotten
My child is gone from me
I wait for return
Dreaming of mice
Which I shall catch no more
They now pass me by
Knowing full well my thoughts
How is it that mice can see
What people cannot
They feel nothing in absence
Walking by without notice
Of the small things
Which give hints of existence
Without flies in a window
They would not know discomfort
A mere waving of the hand
To chase them from their place
If I were not waiting
Escape would be my only passion
Dying under a handsome tree
In open spaces
Dreaming of mice
Which I shall catch no more

~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved