-the cat drinks the Christmas tree water-

the cat drinks the Christmas tree water,

obscured due to the tree’s decorative density,–– but

I can hear her lapping.

the sound is captivating and lovely

running through the pine-scented atmosphere

when something else tells me something's not right with this.

but the ethereal head’s-up doesn’t carry with it

the sternness often associated with the fierce voice of God

and is dismissed as atmospheric static from common swamp-gas.

last night she slept under the tree, (the cat, not the God)

pine needles like dropped pick-up-sticks lying across

her black fur coat during a silent snowfall in the morning.

Season's Greetings to all, and to all, a goodnight!