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Mouse burial

Here comes a mouse skeleton down to you
my old black cat, departed ten years
yourself dust and bones inside a pillowcase
and with lambs' tongues growing above you.

How many field mice you brought it, condescending
gifts you rarely ate, though birds were different.
Now in the underworld of unheard streams
passing far below you, known only by whiskers

and instinct, as forgiveness for dying is, I
bring you this small trap-caught fat mouse
who died with his eyes glazed, teeth fastened on
a square of Edam, under the trap's sharp note.