there’s a certain peace
that comes with our noisy little apartment
west of the city, still within its bounds

a chirping bird, the bell of the trolley
a siren wailing in the distance

wind rustles through the leaves of the shingle oak outside our bedroom window
brown and crisp, they’ll likely hold on till spring

light peers through our window, facing  east
illuminating the plant that was carefully placed there
every day, waiting, for its moment in the sun

I turn to face you.
you’re heavy and warm
lips pursed ever so slightly in your slumber

stirring
as our little cat tip toes
around your head,
looking for a place to settle in

I lean my weight into you
and I am met with the warmth of your touch
molding my body to fit the shape of yours
as you indulge in your Saturday slumber

the trolley screeches against the tracks
as the bird continues to sing it’s tune
my cat finds herself settled at my feet
and I, entangled in you.