10pm. Poem 20

Mornings with Lucy

She comes to me at first alarm
laying her head on my breast
settling in tummy to tummy

She makes biscuits
and closes her eyes
to heal me with her rhythmic purr.

She is my morning.
She is the start of each day.
She is why I can do what I do.
When so much is uncertain
she is my constant.
She is my love.