“A black cat sleeping with her tail curled around her”

In a patch of mottled sunlight,  
Upon the wooden sill,  
A midnight-coated whisper  
Lies perfectly, and still—  

Her velvet form is folded  
Tight as willow’s ring,  
A shadow drawn in circles  
Enclosing everything.  

Her tail—an inky question—  
Wraps slow around her nose,  
As if she dreams of silent hunts  
Where only moonlight goes.  

Her whiskers snare a breeze-song,  
Her paws knead phantom prey;  
Yet in this moment’s gentleness,  
Predation slips away.  

Soft fur, the hue of hidden things,  
Of mystery and night,  
She curls inside her tranquil world  
A small, unbroken light.  

The purr that drifts like twilight,  
The sigh that says she’s home—  
A black cat sleeping, wound in peace,  
Where sunbeams gently roam.

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