Pivotal
September 22, 1994
Sometime during this first cool night
the cat jumped on our bed to warm herself.
Early light whitens the rumpled sheet,
touches the silky sleeping fur.
Spine curled, her long legs gather
to a loose bunch of pink mottled toes.
Over shoulder, rib cage, haunch,
the variegated fur stirs with her breath
like wind on tan grassed hills.
And the sooty velvet of her tucked throat
holds autumn's ember.