Ode to My Cat

Who sits upon my windowsill,

Silently breathing and completely still.

Whose eyes glare at the birds,

As well as the goat herds.

I stand under the window,

Only to feel her sorrow,

For we both wish to be free,

And buzz around like a busy bee.

Only I may do this, though,

But her hallow stare brings such sorrow,

To my heart and to my eyes,

It is in this state that I wish,

Neither of us dies.