Herc in the Window

He sits there waiting for the sun to come up. I watch him slyly, not completely opening my eyes, pretending to sleep because if he hears me, if he hears my eyelashes move against the morning air, feels my yawn from five feet away, senses the blanket rustling, he will turn his head and look at me. Then, if our eyes meet, he will leap down to the floor, then leap up on the bed and walk around my head, looking for a hand to reach out and pet him, putting his forehead to mine as a way of telling me he is done waiting.