Fog
Posted by emilythecat on January 12, 2009
FOG by: Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)
-
- The fog comes
- on little cat feet.
- It sits looking
- over harbor and city
- on silent haunches
- and then moves on.
Meow again! Emily the Cat here. I got up this morning from my warm snuggle spot, and I looked out the bird-o-vision front window. Everything looked kind of hazy, and it was hard to see birds or squirrels or anything else out the window. My lady people said that there was fog stuff outside, and that is why I could not see anything out there very well.
Then she started talking some strange stuff, and talked the poem story that my male people typed in for me. (I don’t type real well in people language, so he helps me with my blog.) I don’t get it. She said that fog had something to do with the feet of cats, and I reminded her that they were paws. Then she talked something like that the fog sits like a cat sits on the window sill. That’s kinda silly!
Well, I’m looking at the fog and listening to my people talk about fog. Ho hum. I think I’ll look for a cat toy now.
