Just like you to find the sweet spot –
the warmest place is the windowsill.
You lie in the sun, stretch and kill.
You are never troubled by regret.
You are almost divine: there and not there.
You track my steps in a zig-zag ritual
and charm me for your next meal.
Like a spell, you melt into the air.
You live in the present. You do not fret
about what might happen tomorrow.
You follow me around like a shadow.
You seem happy when I am not.
You occupy a circle of now
as you flex and curl. I envy you.
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