Looking around through the grains of rice,
wondering, “Where are my tiny mice?”
“Oh no!” My mom yells.
I wait for her. “Tell!”
Then she screams, “In the fridge!” Not nice.
I open the door of the fridge,
to see my mice building a bridge.
Two mice on the ends,
three trying to send
a piece of cheese over the ridge.
They march in a row, one by one.
The first says, “Are we almost done?”
“No,” say the others.
“Wait!” Says my brother.
The mice drop the cheese and run.
I give them back their rightful cheese,
and ask, “Will you go back home, please?”
They decide to rebel,
and then say farewell,
while closing the door on my knees.
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