When the Squeaking Stops

The constant squeaking sounds small, strange,
like the little mouse with the round, fluffy body
has somehow gotten stuck in the fluorescent light
and hasn't stopped squeaking since I lit the room.
I walk under the light, searching for its hiding spot
because I know it must be in this area, distressed,
if the sounds are any indication, but it can't be
in the light casing; it couldn't have maneuvered
the pipes covering the wires to make the journey.

After fifteen minutes, I notice the hole in the plaster
above the light, providing a small den for a mouse.

After twenty minutes, the squeaking stops completely,
and I can only hope the mouse has settled down
or retraced the route that brought it to the hole,
because I don't want to think about the maximum
temperature of a pair of fluorescent lightbulbs.

The Resident Mouse

A few moments after I entered the room this morning,
I heard the soft rustling that denotes the resident mouse,
hurrying to find a mostly-concealed path under counters
and tables to wherever it hides when people are there.
But the noise sounds different, more defined and plastic.
When I look into the five gallon white plastic bucket,
the mouse looks up at me-- frozen, frightened, fluffy--
in a container only filled with its own droppings.
I slowly begin to tilt the bucket, letting the mouse adjust
to the change in its center of gravity before I let go.
I don't look back as I walk away and start my routine
until the familiar scratch of small claws under the table
makes me realize I could've taken the bucket outside.

Unexpected Guest

When the mouse slips out from under the foundation
and into the light spilling from the fluorescent bulb,
few of the party-goers notice its silent appearance.
But as it continues to move through the shadows
until it freezes in the direct light as though hidden,
more and more people begin to pay attention to it
and share speculations about the furry gray rodent
that has managed to avoid the black boxes of rat bait
and the painful-looking seizures that always ensue.