Morning Muse

I wake up to a silent house    
the alarm cat slumbers still    
walking softly on cold wood    
feet melt into familial tree.    
     
I step outside into the crisp      
inhale deeply the dark sky    
fields of star enfolding    
follicles bristle the familiar cold.    
     
I return to the shelter of tea    
candles and incense alight    
settle in to await sun’s arousal      
lap abuzz with felial purr.      
     
——    
     
I pick up pen to wax poetic    
place it quickly back in trough    
morning has written itself    
I, mere parchment for a    
mundanely perfect (w)rite.    
     
R.