When he falls asleep
and slowly stretches his front legs
he dreams of summer
dreams of an unscathed brick house
dreams of chickens
running around the yard
dreams of children
who treat him to meat pies
my helmet slips out of my hands
falls on the mud
the cat wakes up
squints his eyes
looks around carefully:
yes, they’re his people:
and falls asleep again.
translated by Christine Chraibi
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Leonard Durso 
❤️
There is something to love about the self-centred arrogance of a comfortable cat.
Not that the cat would care one way or the other.
Beautiful poem! The cat was dreaming I think!😊
Seems to be.
Love this!
Glad you do.
🥂