On doesn’t disturb a birdwatcher.
And from the corner of my desk, I hear
The particular sounds of a dedicated birdwatcher,
The chattering chirps come quietly, the body tucked and alert.
And you wouldn’t distract a starving child
From the only meal it’s had in awhile.
So intent on getting to the dish and eating it all
Before someone else could possibly take its food away.
You couldn’t think to wake a sleeping person
Whose been working hard all day
Keeping intruders at bay and keeping track
Of all that goes on in its own immense domain and estate.
I’m beginning to think perhaps
I should possibly dip in reverence
Next time I serve her majesty’s meal or snack
And, WINK, she sends me her love across the room
And I’m content at last.
I’ve found just that right position.
The covers are up just so.
My pillow is at the perfect angle.
And I close my eyes and allow my mind to drift…
I let my breathing slow.
I feel my heart do so, too.
I let go of that last bit of tension.
My mind has stopped processing at warp speed…
My focus seems fuzzy.
Darkness is descending nicely.
And then there is the shock
Of nine pounds of black fur and purr pouncing…
I jolt and stiffen for a moment.
She circles once kneading my feet.
Into a black fur ball of warmth.
Once again darkness descends nicely on me…
my own reservation–
was it seen as a slight hesitation?
just a minor doubt-
before i put my hand out.
would it be felt in my shrinking flesh?
did it matter?
if it were known?
that reservation of mine.
didn’t i have the right?
so what, if it was seen as a hesitation,
maybe more than a minor doubt,
it was my reservation
and i would keep it