Saturday, December 16, 2006

A cat (A Poem)

She had a name among the children;
But no one loved though someone owned
Her, locked her out of doors at bedtime
And had her kittens duly drowned.

In Spring, nevertheless, this cat
Ate blackbirds, thrushes, nightingales,
And birds of bright voice and plume and flight,
As well as scraps from neighbours’ pails.

I loathed and hated her for this;
One speckle on a thrush’s breast
Was worth a million such; and yet
She lived long, till God gave her rest.

Edward Thomas
Born 1878, killed in the battle of Arras-
Easter Monday, 9 April 1917


Anonymous said...

the biggest killer of garden birds is invisible. In a 1992 Cornell Laboratory study into mortality, 51 per cent of deaths resulted from birds flying into windows.

Bird Advocate said...

Using that logic, I suppose if the cause of 51 percent of childrens deaths were caused by disease you'd allow yours to play in traffic?