the cat

I sat in the park, watching the trees,
Feeling the chill of the winter breeze,
The squirrels’ finding food,
A dead piece of wood,
A cat on the prowl, stalking the birds,
She looks at me as I look back,
I wonder if she is going to attack,
She comes on over, to the bench,
Leaps up and settles by my side,
A new friend I have, it would appear,
Until she decides to disappear,
The hair from my friend now makes me sneeze,
I shiver, I think, from the winter breeze?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2011
About this poem:
sitting on a park bench

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Comments (3)

Odette67
Sweet poem, cat's can be so imperious, but lovely. handshake
schawalski
at least she didn't hunt the squirrels
niah9
wonderful poem...really enjoyed it...stresses how we cannot own a cat...they just do their own thing. niahcool grin
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