Petunia yawns and rounds her back with all fur straight on end.
It’s much to bright, I’ll lose my sight if I cannot defend,
Myself from all those things that twirl outside my window sill.
They dance and race, they fly through space, I’ll catch them yes I will.
I see the door open once more, then I dart outside.
EEEK it’s cold, it’s wet, I fold my toes, ooops then I slide.
I flop and flip, can’t get my grip, my toenails fill with ice.
I think I’ll hide myself inside so that I do not slip,
And let the things that have white wings yet be another trip.
by N. Saunders
I have written nearly 20 poems about my cat in my poetry book called “The Perils of Petunia.” Since the snow has been such a challenge to man and beast I thought that I would share with you a cats perspective.