and there you still keep sitting.
featherball,
snores and all,
and all around you, now,
the world keeps spinning.
tiny spiders weave their webs,
and mice stir the floor below,
yet breaths in purrs,
tumble through your ribs,
and lightly fall, do your eyelids.

and the world just keeps spinning round,
saucers full,
repeating sounds.

silent now,
but only to hesitate-
a five minute nap to ready later.