Merida Prose+Poetry

Unwanted Guests

I opened the drawer
looking for turmeric, or some other thing
Instead I found a writhing bag of mouse
Mouse babies
The mother staring at me as if to say
What will you do now that you’ve found us?
Bay leaves take on a new meaning
no longer the fragrant simmering essence of dinner
But instead a nest
a nest of mouse
I was shocked and repulsed but could not look away
Their tiny pink bodies squirming and tumbling as if
the light was the threat
not me
I could not look away
I could not watch
My husband lifts the shredded baggy of leaves
gently from the drawer, one pink body left behind
Its mother watching while it squirms
We are both helpless

In October 2012, I drove 6,800 kms with my artist husband, Ric Kokotovich (, and my dog Iggy, to spend 6 months in our adopted city of Merida. Leaving the fast paced world of Calgary behind, I packed my books, art and entrepreneurial spirit, and set off to explore what lay beyond the borders that had become my life. In October 2013 we hit the road south again, hoping to find out what ‘living the dream’ really means. This is my adventure.

5 comments on “Unwanted Guests

  1. Can you say heeby jeebies boys and girls??!! Ewwwww!

  2. Mary Paston

    Oh how sweetly icky…I like your poem…thanks missie!,

    Sent from my iPad


  3. Merrill wattie

    very touching, both observer and observed very vulnerable.

  4. Laura Mahon

    Wow – wonderful poem.

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