First Balance

Stiffness gives way. A low pulse settles inside my frame. I tilt forward, one slow shift at a time. The woven fabric beneath my blocky foot yields slightly, soft yet firm. Beside me rises the wooden post of a cat tree, solid and still. I extend one hand to press against the couch cushion. It indents. I release. It recovers. I stand grounded, quietly watching the pale light spill from the distant window.