On May Day my cat will complete his second month of absence. I was told when I adopted him that I should not let him outside because he could meet a terrible death. I let him outside, anyway, on the feeling that one should not incarcerate anyone. I regret that some days, since he may indeed have met a terrible death.
This is a lullaby for my cat and as I say, I am convinced lullabies are actually laments for children who have died. In this lullaby, the child wishes to be a bird, to go and comfort a lonely tree. You will be cold, child, says the mother, and dresses him so warmly that he cannot fly. The child is stunted and the tree is forlorn.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 