Saturday, 17 March 2012

An Urban Thriller...The End

It's quiet.
Not a sound.
I'm pleased to report
Has found
The bait I laid down.

With patience I waited,
With pellets of green
In a little white tray
Four times baited.
(A poisonous hue
As ever I'd seen.)

And now my abode
Is quiet and still.
The scrabbling has ceased
And it would appear
My guest ate his fill

And ventures no more.

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