This, the first of the frost
(a "killing" frost, they call it)
Throws sunlight off grass like a diamond
In the very hard chill and lazy silence
Draped over the morning so casually.
I hold warm love in the folds of a soft chenille blanket
Beneath the belly of a curled up cat
Snoring her most gentle feline breath
With the ease of the day that is ours
If we only wait for the great release.
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