the orange cat sits at the open window
his neck cranes for every angle
he can hardly look outside
the intensity of the freedom is too much
but he remains on the sill
enjoying the cool wind on him
a reminder of freedom, though he can’t look
the closeness to the outside is enough

cat on my chest
a nice light pressure
don’t want to move
then my phone plings
“morning”
joy bubbles up and out
becoming a laugh
you’re in the other room