We called them Sprite and Squirt <br />Appropriate consumeables <br />And never in our wildest imaginings <br />Thought the owls would take one from us. <br />And so we grieved each in our own way as we passed <br />The marks that magnified the certainty of loss. <br />My wife with her peculiar force of personality <br />And I with pen and talk with her and others. <br />Still past the third day I could not help but <br />Look for Sprite in hope of resurrection <br />While watching number two against the dog in grief. <br /> <br />The night before - we talked at last, at length - <br />And settled on a simple fact <br />That Sprite had need for freedom <br />More than security of house, <br />It was freedom that defined her - gave power to her days. <br /> <br />The ache within us lessened <br />Not all are built to live within the safety of an arch <br />While heart needs time to heal the head at least can know <br />Sometimes freedom's dark dangers win, <br />It may not be what seems the sin <br />When you have to let one go.<br /><br />Bill Grace<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cat-casualty-density/
