Gene Groves
Hide and Seek

He likes this game
knows her familiar hiding places
behind long velvet curtains
or crouched behind the sofa
where she tries not to breathe too loudly.
He flies from room to room
lands on her back
patters to her shoulder, nibbles her hair.

Her turn now to hunt
but he’s drowning in the sink
bobbing like an apple at Hallowe’en.
Soggy, he is hauled out
tossed into the air a little way
hurled up again and again to dry.
Feathers stroked, soothed
he hops from her hand to his own safe home.