Sat in a hole within her burrow deep,
One tunnel led to the variable air.
Another to her nest of sleep.
The third untouched, a fearsome snare.
To the sea.
Alone she slept within her nest
Without old friends, by no decree.
All said she gave to them her best
But frowned as they once sought the sea.
Without a care.
They left, they ran, into the sea
From ripe and narrow beds, they fled
They screamed as water set them free
From holes they feared would hold them dead.
Not to be.
The mole dug more and built a dam.
In comfort she would live above
The waters dark that drowned her clan
And robbed her of the ones she loved.
Her tears ran deep.
Night would squeeze its paw around
Her as she curled within her lair.
A scrape and shuffle then unbound her
When another mole appeared to dare
Her to depart.
“The world is bigger than this hole and
Much more lies beyond the sea.
Come with me to see the land.
We two will start a dynasty.”
She bit his nose.
The mole has dug another path
Outside but hidden from the tide.
She sits above the darkening sea
Where she can watch the otters glide.
And thinks of him.
“So right, so true were you, my love”
She sighed and scurried down below.
“I’ll gnaw, and scrape through continents
Until I find my sweet Hello.”
And she left.
2 thoughts on “The Mole Having Dug Three Tunnels”
Sweet poem of rebirth, in a way. Had you written this as a story before?
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The poem is oddly touching and is a wonderfully written and balanced work. Perhaps, in these times, one has to dig deep, but with a plan.