Reflections

by Henri

I sit on the window seat, gazing out at the birds flitting through the branches of the Ilex tree. My eyes snap back and forth, watching the parade of brightly colored feathers weave in and out of the matrix . I lick my lips, thinking of the days when these tender, fragile creatures were my meal for the day. I remember the scent of them, the taste, sweet against my tongue. The tip of my tail swishes back and forth. I remember and the I think about the aroma of the delicious tidbits which come from tinned cans and stout paper bags. I sit on the window seat, gazing out at the birds flitting through the branches of the Ilex tree. I am warm, wrapped in the deep cushions.

I am not hungry. I need only watch...I am a happy cat.