A Small Clay Dish

I slipped out past the porch threshold to see how the garden looked in the morning. Beside the wooden steps, half-hidden under a broad dock leaf, rested a discarded terracotta saucer from a tiny flowerpot. It had caught a shallow pool of clear dew. I sat down on the damp gravel and slowly dipped the tip of one plush paw into the water. It rippled quietly, sending pale rings across the reddish clay. The surface was cool and still. I rested my chin against the saucer's rough rim, watching a tiny reflection of the sky settle in the center.