We are anchored in the stars
—Larry Dossey, MD
Before I could grab nitrile gloves
& drop the body in the garbage can
a black triangle dive-bombed
the driveway—
two wingmen & one flying point—
pinched the headless mouse
another victim murdered
next to the house. Last night
a back-door corpse, this evening
one flat on the blacktop.
From woods to grass to iris stalks
like heat-seeking missiles, mice
clog the air compressor, chew
garage door wire, collapse
gasping in glue traps or,
beheaded, are lifted into air.