View of a Pig

Ted Hughes

The black vagabond cat
that never permitted to be petted,

swatted the baby nest from the tree,
hungry for the Cardinals chirping chicks.

Scatting the feline to the wood,
I took the nest and collected

the three featherless hatchlings.
Eyes not even open the bled blind to life.

The neighbors' kids claimed
they needed internal surgery,

so desperate for their salvation;
I passed the twigged cradle through

the gates diamond space.
With broken sticks and razor rocks,

they tore the bellies of the chicks,
spilling their long wormy insides

to the grass, which now puddled
with black. Gurgled tweets now

fell silent as the lesson transpired
to my seven year old self. Children

can't save lives with branches
and gravel groundings.