The Hitch Hiker
Dodging logging trucks and pot holes, Heading up to summer range, When I noticed we had a passenger, Although it seemed a little strange Hunched down in the driving rain, Hanging on as best he could,, Was a tiny white footed field mouse, Riding on the pick-up hood. I don’t know how he got there, I’m sure he didn’t plan this trip, And at forty miles an hour, I wondered how he kept his grip. I'll never know why Mister Mouse, Got the sudden urge to to roam, But I pulled over, and he jumped off, At least twenty miles from home! Mike Puhallo
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