Quatrains

Your eyes peek through the modest veil
of liner and mascara, another brilliant mask.
It works for you; no one will wail
in recognition as you scurry, unasked,

from mouse houle to mouse hole, always
avoiding those who might challenge your reflexed
dodging. You find smaller haunts each day,
wriggling your way into cramped duplexes

where you won't be held to account
for the noisome emptiness of your soul.
You'll find one day that no amount
of hiding will protect you from your goal.

9/21/11 dawn