midnight

It’s midnight
when a sound wakes me,
a thud from downstairs.
I listen, alert for a second,
then settle back into my pillow.
I know that sound.
The cat has jumped down from a chair.
Or maybe a counter.
Thud.
Always a perfect landing.
She is a deep-in-the-night prowler.
She snuggles next to me in bed,
our breathing soft and gentle,
but I wake some time later
to realize she’s missing.
She has slipped away to prowl again.
But she’ll be back.
I listen for another bump,
another thud.
All is quiet.
I pull the covers to my chin.
It seems such a little-girl thing to do,
this tucking in,
but my night prowling happens
only when I slip into my dreams.
I breathe easy, trusting that
I’ll be back,
most likely to find
a dozing cat at my side.
-kh-