Cheese on the Table

My cat just crawled onto my striped table cloth.

Cheese on the Table

Lain against the softness curling into  the small streak of Sunday sun.

She leaned against the pottery that cradles two organic apples.

Completing my decor of paper and poetry drafts.

Cheese and I, on the table, sitting here ready to write.

This entry was posted in Personal Reflection, Poetry, Saturnista Love and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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