Mice and Crow Perched amongst the leaves, a crow watches mice build stores for winter. Unseen, it flatters the mice and praises their preparations. It tells them their god may not like what they’ve done. “Why wouldn’t they?” ask the mice. “We only gather what we need to survive.” The crow sympathizes. “I know,” it says, “but what if your god needs what you’ve taken? Do you not love your god?” The mice sift the earth, lift the juiciest worms over their heads. The crow laughs.

I Always Leave the Door Open I always leave the door open, A quirk, a habit, just my way, The breeze rolls in, the night feels soft, The world outside can stay. They laugh and say I’m asking for it, Tempting trouble, teasing fate, But I just grin, shrug it off, What harm’s an open gate? It started small, just little things, A cup moved left, a chair askew, Keys misplaced, a door ajar, Things I swore I didn’t do. “It’s just the wind,” I’d tell myself, With a wink and a care