The Cat

 

Six a.m.

Thump on the bed. Over to the window sill.

The cat sits herself down

and looks outside.

Immobile,

she stares out the window.

I raise my head and look out too

but all is calm.

The leaves hang motionless,

suspended, waiting for a breeze.

Almost imperceptibly

dawn merges into day.

The cat  sits still and stares.

The air is filled with birdsong.

She must see something

or perhaps is simply waiting

for something to come her way.

I’ll never know what she is looking at.

I’ll never know what she’s perceiving.

The light gets stronger.

I throw aside the covers

and the cat jumps down, knowing

she’ll get breakfast.

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