Cats in Bed
In honor of National Poetry Month, Ring Around the Basin offers this poem.
Cats in Bed
Wind howls beyond the curtained panes
We slide between flannel sheets
Warm against chilled skin and satin.
Knees and bellies and wayward arms
Fit just so, although in my mind
Hippos tiptoe in pursuit of aquatic love
With a lot more corpulent grace.
Instead, our bodies make
Canyons and caves
For cats to den and slumber.
Charlie's first in the ritual gathering
His tongue slaps his lips as a signal
For me to lift the cover
He ventures halfway under and pauses
His angora plumage dusting my face
Until he burrows further
Paws my pajama'd leg and pivots
To settle for a time in the crook of my arm.
Just as dreams arrive, Lucky pounces
Square and precise, his paws press
Seeking that soft spot between us
Eight pounds becomes leaden weight
Pulling covers down with him
He explores possibilities
Undercover spelunking
Wet nose on cheek or ear opens the way
He pushes through
Drapes himself over my body
And finds Charlie purring
Extending a paw, he hangs there
Joining in the hum.
Soon all is settled.
Jeff begins to snore in sweet rumbles
And only the wind yowls at the window
Like a cat scratching to come inside.
Ah, the nightly ritual. I remember it well. This poem is delightful, Sue. I was ready to climb in with you all. I especially loved the rhythm of this "... our bodies make Canyons and caves For cats to den and slumber." and this, "...Seeking that soft spot between us Eight pounds becomes leaden weight Pulling covers down with him." Lovely.