A Quiet Alignment

I walked inside from the garden door and made my way toward the warm glow of the living room lamp. On the polished mahogany side table, someone had left an ornate brass bookmark shaped like a hollow fern frond. Hopping onto the cushioned arm of the chair and stepping onto the wood, I drew close to examine the delicate metal veins. With deliberate gentleness, I tapped the curved stem with my front claw, nudging it until it lay parallel with the dark timber grain. Resting in its cool bronze shadow, I settled down and let the quiet room envelop me.