Cat Nap

A cat lies slumbering on an old windowsill,

Cracking paint telling its age,

Content in a golden, sun-soaked nap,

Warmth saturating a fat, soft fur-pelted belly,

Colored in cream like her booted paws.

Hidden, inner lids bid undisturbed blackness,

Unbothered by peaking light,

Her fleshy, pink nose breathing in

The annual odor of a ladybug grave.

Rumbling purrs vibrate upon each tiny exhale,

Sharp tangerine ears, ever alert, respond in tiny twitches.

To exist like a cat,

Is a divine gift,

A blessing unknown to me.