Poem | Cold

The streets are frozen empty with the cold
The harsh ball of winter sun
Burns through the clouds
But not enough to warm us surface dwellers
Even mammals have a hard time being warm-blooded
Creatures scurry from place to place
Strategically looking for shelter from the ripping winds
A feral cat snuck into the newly empty house across the street
My husband and I did a mad dance to get her out
Torn between wanting to be kind
And needing to keep the place presentable
We showed her the door several times
Before she got the message
I feel like one of those mustachioed landlords
Evicting the poor widow woman in those serials.