The best time of day
is not day at all.
It is when the house settles
with a sigh and final creak.
The lamp has been switched off,
and I burrow into the flannel sheets
and a pillow the size of my head.
It is then,
in the darkness,
that the cat slowly crawls over the pillow.
I lift the blanket
and extend my right arm.
He arranges himself in the nook,
draping his paws over my arm,
and resting his head.
He may or may not purr-
But it is in that moment
that I feel pure happiness
and what it must be like
to be loved…
unconditionally.