cops stand quiet in the morning
and the air is warm and heavy
hands on their hips
or arms crossed
they stare into the storm drain
when firemen hose off the sidewalk

i cleaved out squares of sod
pried them from the earth
clumped and thick
with soil and left
across the lawn
a wide wet scrape

a mouse just born
slept pink and blind
in a bag of mulch
poured into the garden.
i froze when i found it
studied the beating
of its fragile heart
and skin lined
translucent with veins
its eyes pinched shut like
seashells.
but i knew nothing else to do.
so i turned the mulch back
over the pulsing morsel
and left it there
in the cool cedar