A Little Prismatic Glass

My paws wandered toward the low windowsill where the early morning sun was just beginning to climb. Resting flat on the warm painted ledge was a smooth, octagonal glass button and a dry sprig of rosemary that had dropped from a kitchen jar. Pausing to take a steady breath, I used both plush paws to gently slide the thin woody stem under one beveled edge of the glass. The heavy crystal tilted upright, catching the low sunbeam at an angle. A small, trembling speck of amber and violet light sprang onto the painted frame. Sitting back against the window latch, I rested quietly in the morning warmth.