Curiosity

There was a sound coming from back of the old house
Or, was it his imagination, in his head?
There it was again, a metallic clicking mouse
He’s the only one home, can’t be his mate, instead

Finally, his curiosity got the best
He rose from the dining room table and his book
Taking off his reading glasses, scratching his chest
In his socks, padding down the hall to take a look

He followed the noise to a dank darkened bedroom
As his vision adjusted to the lack of light
Crouched before him, large eyes looking up from the gloom
Arrival the new day, he was nowhere in sight

There’re sayings about curiosity and that
But, once and awhile, they are gotten by the cat

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The In to the Weird Series