You were small, with feet
that barely covered the tips
of my fingers.
I could feel your heart beat
fast between your ribs,
thin as sinews.
My hands, clammy,
shook with excitement,
as your tiny legs
swam in the air.
My eyes brimmed
with delight, overflowing,
while yours grew wide
with terror.
You squirmed and fought
against my grasp,
wriggling between.
And from the top of my three-foot
tall, four-year-old’s frame
you, poor hamster, fell.
The fall was far,
for such short legs,
little feet and delicate bones.
Your eyes grew larger,
deep pits of fear, stunned,
you stopped squirming,
My eyes welled, feeling
sorry for my newest, smallest
and now, stillest friend.
You were quickly scooped up
by much larger palms, warmly
they carried you away.
But luckily, mom and dad said,
we’ve got plenty of
hamster bandages.