Russell, the hamster,
is gone and who knows who
ate him or where
he may have discovered a crevice
wide enough to squeeze
through -- Lulu, mammoth of a lab,
did you nab him? (I checked
your stool for bones).
Poor rustling friend
who roused in darkness tread
the wheel to dawn’s light
alone with his thoughts
racing to strike
the right tempo (albeit creakily) --
to wrestle his groove --
I miss the insistence
of your accompaniment,
the kindred tenor
of our search.