I sit in the tote bag
and watch the world
although my eyes cannot see.
I feel the vibrations,
smell food and friends
and know everything’s as it should be

I knock over trash cans
and lay in them
sometimes I fall asleep
I huddle in a shopping bag or box–
just about anything

My humans carry me in the basket
up and downstairs
I don’t want to get out,
so I hiss, but I’m not angry

I like to pet the Christmas tree,
smell its needles,
and let him know he’s okay.

(poem by Quincy, photos by his human, Erica)