Inspired by a scene in "The Hero Next Door" by Carrie Nichols

I hear the scream
From across the street
And my heart jumps
In my chest;
Looking toward her
1890s house,
I see her run by
A window,
Madly swinging something
Gripped tightly
In her hands.
I would have reacted
For anyone, that's true ,
But this was my new neighbor,
A woman
For whom I've harbored feelings
For months,
So my feet flew to
Her rescue!
From her porch I hear
Her scream again
And I hit the front door
Shoulder first and
Promptly bounce off.
Damn these
Victorian oak doors!
So I hit it again,
Splintering the frame,
And fall inside,
Barely able to keep
My feet,
And rush toward
Another scream,
This time
Coming from the kitchen.
There I find her
Beating at a corner
With a broom.
I yell, “What's happened?”
At the top of my lungs
But she blindly continues
To beat the corner,
Incensed and accompanied by
A half-grown kitten
Trying to dart in
Between swipes of
The straw end
Of the worn pole.
Then I glimpse what
They're battling:
A wee little gray mouse,
Cringing,
Infinitely more terrified,
With obvious good reason,
Of her than
She of it,
And I sag in relief
Even as I roll my eyes;
All of this drama
For such a small,
Battered creature?
Women!

c. 2022