He waits there crying.
He thinks he wants to go out.
The door is opened
and the world outside is revealed.
So is the crisp cold air.
The temperatures are dropping
but he comes back inside quickly.
Then he heads to the back door
and starts crying there.
He thinks if we open this door
the temperature outside
will be miraculously changed.
He is often disappointed when he discovers it is not.
Still, he waits each morning
crying to go out.
Silly cat.
No.
We have no control over the weather.
Despite what you want us to do.
Saturn's Premier Poet 