Freedom

I saw a baby squirrel

in my home yesterday.

Running frantically about

this way and that way.

It had probably come inside by accident,

And had forgotton the way out.

now it ran hither thither,

Frightened scurrying about.

It was a rare sight ,

to see this petrified young one,

and i couldnt help wondering if it was

a daughter or a son.

even as we looked at it

with amazed eyes,

the child climbed onto a curtain,

giving out loud, pitiful cries.

We opened all the windows and doors,

and after a considerable amount of chasing,

we finally succeededin letting the squirrel

out into the sunny evening.

In silent prayer

a moment we spent,

praying the little one

would find its way back to its parents.

But from its freedom it had

nothing to gain.

and we had really not expected

to see the little sqirrel again.

For it was just the next day that

we found it dead in the street,

lying in its own pool of blood,

some cat's idea of a morning treat.

the macare incident cut throughme

like a knife,

for my young friend had payed for its freedom

with its life.....