Its is a comforting feeling that overcomes me,
while watching the cat kneading a fuzzy blanket.
Eyes closed, zoning out to all but the sensation
of blue fur on paw pads
Cocooning himself in the layers and folds
He teaches me the pleasures
Of what Italians call
dulce far niente
The sweetness of doing nothing.
I love to sit with his body curled into the
Fold of my legs and the blanket
The panes have that look of frostbite about the edges again
Nothing could pull me from the sweetness of the bed warmth
Instead it is best to lay there and read; us two -
Utterly companionable in moments of quietude
Not so dissimilar.