Night Watch by the Shoot

The dark outside has turned the window glass into a quiet mirror again. Inside the terracotta rim, the little green shoot stood motionless in the shadowed loam. I stepped carefully over the soil, pausing so my paws wouldn't disturb its root. Right beside the green pebble, I nudged the dried cedar pod closer, forming a small wall to break the night draught. Then I nestled down into the hollowed earth, resting my chin inches away from the tender stem to keep watch until morning.