Midnight Mouse........Monday Poem

With her door open she could see the fridge.

It was only fifteen feet away when her

stomach would start to snore so loud

she would wake.

An extreme hallway tunnel vision ensued.

I imagine her sitting up and turning

toward the safe full of leftovers.

Her very own midnight oasis,

and whatever dreams may come

this would be the feeder of those dreams.

So she would walk slow and steady

invoking the creaks that have been

in the hallway floor for years.

She, with one eye half open,

was like a foraging bear.

She didn’t need the glasses

which always left two pock marks

on the bridge of her nose.

This was a nightly walk of faith…

Of hopes of aged goulash and

Michigan small curd cottages…

Of a pickle or salmon from a can…

Of cold hamburg gravy.

In this midnight catatonic state,

I would imagine her parallel arms

stretched before her like a zombie.

She never wondered if the fridge

light was on inside that closed door.

All that mattered was the light

which cascaded down on the

ala cart, potpourri diversity

that was the fridge.

Her one eye was wide open now.

There she would hunch in the

glow while her backlit body

told all beneath her nitie.

Then the bobble head

Hawaiian, grass skirted, would

dance a little under its veneer

of grease and dust from a top

of the island fridge.

It was there the midnight

Mouse would twitch her nose,

whiskers brushing the

cool  air and nibble

her way back to bed.

(For my mother, her many quirks I do adore.)