On cold days they come inside, hunker down
and have a chat in the corner of the room.
Sometimes, they brazenly waltz into the kitchen
sniffing around for scraps and crumbs, inching
around the washing machine and the fridge,
pausing if we stray too close and offer a hand.
One even tried to have a bath once;
lucky the taps weren’t left on to accidentally
swirl it away down the plughole.
I admit, it was alarming at first to think
we had house guests who never announced their coming,
simply turning up whenever they felt like it.
Now, they’re as much a part of the household as us.
But I will move them out from underfoot
if they’re in danger of getting squished.
Treeshallow Musings 