Cats

This is a poem I wrote January 3, 1975 when I was 14 years old.

I have two cats. They are full of fun. I play with them until the day is done.
They look at me with big yellow eyes. Which are usually as big as pies.
Sometimes these eyes show fear, happiness, or anger.
Sometimes they are full of sorrow.
Sometimes they are full of pride.
Sometimes to rules they will not abide.
With fuzzy coats in winter.
They play in the snow.
Sometimes they are bored and never show.
Their eyes in winter look quite cold.
But when in the house they look quite bold.
These eyes are tired now.
They sat goodnight, meow.