Poems & Thoughts of Rob Taylor

Poem · January 1, 2014

A Little Thing

The grass and bearberry stalks rustle quickly,marking a persistent zigzag trailof the field mouse,hidden by their cover.In the quiet late afternoon,with little to distract from this sudden pattern,the slight phenomenon becomes emphasized.Although it is minor,I've never seen anything like it,feel such usually goes unnoticed,and become awed by this privilege.

nature