In the Nest, Late Morning

By Clara Blair

With the sunlight streaming in the south window,
I wake and find them with me in our bed.
You, gone to work hours ago,
Left space for them to share
Without quite touching.

The large bundle of red and white fur
Lies sleeping soundly, his soft belly exposed.
Curled up loosely, the sleek black one
Is peaceful and relaxed,
Not caring her nemesis is inches away.

This is a state of grace, peace and safety.
Like sleeping children, they are all quiet innocence.
Superannuated kittens at ten and eleven,
Housecats all their lives, they are
Still fierce tigers in their dreams.

But in their dreams also our bed is
Their mother's nest, the place of warmth and nurture
That was their home before they came to us.
Never truly wild but in their souls,
They are tame on this common ground.

© 2003 Clara Blair