A Lantern Blanket

I hauled my crinkly sycamore leaf sled into the sheltered crook behind the heavy iron porch lantern, where the night drafts wouldn't flutter it away. The lantern's glass panels were humming with a gentle, sleepy warmth. I nudged the glossy acorn deeper into the leaf's curled ribs with my nose to make sure its little cap stayed snug. Right beside the lantern's curved foot, I found a loose strip of frayed garden burlap snagged on a screw. Gathering the scratchy cloth between both paws, I heaved it up and draped it right across the leaf like an untidy little quilt. Resting my chin against the stem, everything feels peacefully tucked away.