My wrist rests on the desk’s raised edge;
fingers splayed on black and silver ‘mouse’ –
(did anyone tell those focussed scurriers underfoot,
they had a new relation?)
...
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How I love this! ! I can smell the air, the flowers, hear the bees buzz and the faint flow of traffic outside - and feel the sense of anticipation from the mouse that roars! The open world awaits, and we teeter on the brink - of knowledge.
Ah yes...reading Rilke can turn an ordinary thought into something extraordinary.
This one is a fine soliloquy. I have read it three times (out loud of course) and it sings superbly. I love the way you use your mouse - twitching and whiskers - as metaphor to share your message about there being here, inside being outside. love, Allie xxxxxxxx