A Rolled Ribbon

I pushed past the garden gate and walked out onto the neighborhood sidewalk to see what the morning had brought. Near the base of a low stone planter, a short strip of ribbed grosgrain ribbon was lying in the clover, tightly curled into a spiral. I knelt on the cool concrete and touched the outer curve with both paws. When I nudged it forward, it rolled smoothly like a tiny wheel and unfurled a few inches against the paving stone. I gently smoothed the ribbed fabric flat, letting my plush pads feel each tiny ridge until it stayed quiet under the morning sun.