I’m a mouse, a mouse
Nervously leaving the cavernous hall of the house
Five steps down from the door
School bag straps half-mast
Blazer sleeves touching my knuckles
I am all buttons and buckles.
A cobbled road to cross and then the church –
Episcopalian – they’re pagans, like the Pope, my mother says.
I mustn’t drag my feet
I mustn’t tell a lie
I must do well
I mustn’t speak to strangers
I mustn’t walk on the cracks
Or I’ll go straight to Hell.
Coming back
I balance on wall-tops,
I am Blondin on the Niagara
Walking the wire.
I go leaping down the hill
Higher and higher
Lighter and lighter
I’m a bird, a bird
I’m Daedalus, Hermes, a swan
I fold my wings when I reach the top of my street
Flying’s my secret. It wouldn’t do to tell
I must put my earth-self on.
Five steps up into the cavernous hallway of the house
Now I’m a mouse, I'm a mouse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem