The Cat on My Chest in February
this afternoon
the days finally grown longer
a wet nose nudges
licks my hand, a signal
that I am to rub alongside
white whiskers, scratch
behind one bent scarred ear
pink pads knead the wool of my Saturday sweater
first one forefoot, then the other
my marmalade sphinx
lowers her body, the weight
a comfort
our bellies seasoned and soft
warm each other
face to face
her eyes, black moons ascending in a yellow sky