the obligatory autumn poem

the cold cats wander to and fro
into the ironing pile they go
under the sheets I folded before
to hide from the draft that slips under the door

they pester me where I sit and type
they mince their paws and whine and gripe
they purr to set a loving trap
when all they want is a nice warm lap

October comes to brown the leaves
that clog the gutters, spill over the eaves
and Halloween cats who arch and spit
must beware of pumpkins carved and lit

the cold cats wander to and fro
(and talk of Michelangelo)
and furnace dust, and shut-in air
that make a prison of their lair

but here at night I think of you
and under a flannel quilt or two
I'll warm to sleep with cats apace
and dream of August, and your face