Becky Ridsdale's poem is a string of six haikus, each a quick snapshot of the natural world. Light fills a room, autumn leaves drift down, the sun burns on skin, snow blows across dark ground, and rain ripples a pool. Most of them end by comparing the scene to something human: laughter, love, differences, problems. The speaker seems to find beauty in these moments, but also a little unease. The sun is "more stable than love," and the snow is "like our differences," which hints at distance or tension in a relationship.
The last haiku changes the tone. After all the gentle imagery, the speaker watches a mouse, "poised, and elegant," and says it will soon be "within my reach." The speaker suddenly sounds like a predator, and the calm mood turns watchful and a bit threatening. The poem moves from soft wonder to quiet tension, ending on a surprise.