The Wood Mouse

This morning I lifted the lid

Of my black plastic compost bin

To deposit the pulled up and unwanted

Assortment of weeds, leaves and grass cuttings

And there amongst the rotting discards of earlier deposits

Were two beady eyes staring upwards

At the new void above now filled with light

Those eyes were those of a small and pristine creature

With a spotless coat of light brown fur

Unsullied by the mass of putrid waste around it

Without hint of contamination from the engulfing

Mass of decaying vegetation, slugs, woodlice, and eggshells

A perfect creature feasting on an apple core

Its tiny form remained pristine and wholesome

Despite its unkempt surroundings

Frightened by the shock of sudden light intrusion

It burrowed downwards into the tangle of debris

Seeking a safe haven away from light and human threat

It was a wood mouse

A rodent that had strayed from its woodland sanctuary

A rare and wonderful sight

But had it been a rodent rat, as well it could

I would be the one that scurried away

In fear and trepidation