The waiting mouse

crouching in the corner the little creepmouse waits,
a tiny puff of graywool
beadlike eyes are burning
needle claws are poised,
she waits:
her hunger is a great pain
she quivers in starving fear
her heart is on fire
yet she still waits,
because she feels something. . .
surrounded by collossal walls
and endless slick floors
that she must traverse to get
the scattered breadcrumbs . .
that lay so far away across the slickness
and the cat. . .
and the cat. . .
and the cat. . .waits.