Little Mouse

Little mouse waiting to come out, can you hear me?
Are your whiskers prickling?
Is your heartbeat throbbing through your ribs?
Then stay.
There, quiet with the darkness over,
With the underside of things and your
Breathing full of dust
Listen, til your ears feel like a muscle
Pulling up the bucket from the well
And your skin tensed like a drum
Taut, trembling for the stick
Here it comes, slicing through the air
The pain is easier than the fear
Trust me, little mouse
I'll tell you when to run