A tiny mouse
No bigger than my thumb
Lay dying outside my door
Still breathing, still moving
Little pink paws
Crawling toward safety
And the mother she lost
A little brown creature
I wrapped in a tissue
That trembled with
Each of her dying breaths
A tissue transformed 
Into a shroud
That enveloped that
Tiny body
I placed into the earth
Next to the gardenia plant
In my garden
Where the memory of
That tiny mouse
Will be transformed
Into the fragrance of a flower