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.


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