I have a child
Draped in feline straddle
Over my chest
With her eyes closed
And one small moccasin ear
Pressed on my heart.

Dawn is close
And I know I should sleep,
But the weight of her
Riding on my breath
Is almost better.

This is a secret
Mothers must keep for themselves:
The pleasure of a child-blanket
That covers you with stars
And with waves of unbearable contentment.