Moving into the Past

When they moved into the new place,
They looked inside all the cupboards
To figure out where to put stuff.

In the first cupboard, a spider,
The second, the corpse of a mouse.
This was not going well at all.

They braced themselves at the third door
But still shrieked when a wren flew out—
Hours to get it out of the house.

Did they dare open any more?
Could they still get out of their lease?
It was dirt cheap, but they were poor,

Why they’d taken it, sight unseen.
They gingerly tested the fourth,
Convinced it might harbor a bat.

Nothing. Nothing at first. Darkness,
But it looked clean, a bit hazy.
When they crawled in, it felt cozy.