The other day – well, Christmas Day, to be more precise – I wrote a post with poems about sleeping.
That post nearly didn’t make it through to publication, though, as I realised I’d made a stupid mistake when I decided on the title: since restive was entirely the wrong word, I came close to abandoning the whole thing.
Then I considered re-thinking things and using the title cat napping to post the same poems with a different set of photos.
In the end I decided to just admit to my error and make the original post and then make a second post with a different set of poems and some – more or less – appropriate pictures.
Here, then, is that second post.
Under laurel leaves, slick
with sunlight, pink nose snuffles
Cream petals drift and seagulls
finds a cat-length patch of shade
whisker-wide and hidden
from curious, non-feline eyes.
He dapples into tabby grey.
The adipose tabby
is happy to doze
on a mat in the sun
with her paws to her nose
and her tail curled round neatly,
its tip in her ear,
asleep in the sunshine,
with nothing to fear.