I hear a mouse stirring in the cabinetbehind a box of half eaten Kashi 7, the cereal
that no one likes except the young woman
who only comes to visit occasionally these days.
The box stands as a sentinel marking
time until she comes back again to pour
those crunchy nuggets into a bowl,
slice some bananas on top and cover
in fresh cold milk before shuffling
over to the dinette to do some casual
climate modeling while eating breakfast.
The mouse is the only one to object to
the thief in his cabinet.