Billy Collins: Mice

I was normally alone in my childhood,
a condition that gave me time
to observe the activities of the many mice

that had infested our house

one winter night when the house

next door burned to a crisp.

They all ran across the snow -

covered lawn to find places

to hide in their new home;

then later they discovered the kitchen,

which was like Columbus discovering

America, because the kitchen was already there.

I became their only spectator

like someone alone in a movie house.

I could even tell some of them apart,

but I resisted giving them names,

afraid they would disappear

if our house happened to burst into flames.

O, anonymous companions,

appearing in a hole in the wall,

always scurrying out of my reach,

so many hours I would watch

your comings and goings,

before someone called me down to dinner;

you were the beginning of cinema for me

and one of the reasons

I am the way I am this morning-

an elderly child with a tummy

full of oatmeal and a mouse on my shoulder,

standing on its hind legs, whispering in my ear.