Window Light

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells


The sun shines down

On the average mahogany floors

And bathes the wood in a square of light

On this sunny afternoon.

The cat lounges

Where the sun touches,

Eyes closed and purring in content,

Fur vibrant under the glare.

In joining her,

To understand the source of her contentment,

I am gladly rewarded

With the pleasant burning of the window’s refraction –

So different from the cold of the dark floor

That I hadn’t noticed before.

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