By Wendy Burton

I counted their tiny hoofbeats as they scurried across the floor,
taking shelter from the cold
Hundreds of
mouse droppings deposited in the pantry
Near the oatmeal
Ladybugs take refuge in the window sills
It’s been a harsh winter
Trees crashing down like narcoleptic giants 
Brutal winds thrashing about, howling like Medusa in heat
And Sawyer, resident Tom, studying coffee grounds as if to read the future
A dream took back something that was mine
The smallest of things can set off an avalanche
A pair of socks, 
the kindness in your eyes
can unmoor me