No Casualties
by LORNA GULSTON, MBE,TD

"No casualties" they said, "No-one's been hurt,"
As, wearily, they shovelled up the dirt,
The tumbled masonry and shattered glass,
So that the busy workday feet could pass.

"No casualties" they said "Thank God for that!"
But underneath the rubble lay a cat,
Her body crushed beneath a fallen beam,
Too sorely maimed, too agonised to scream.

She hadn't asked a lot from life, poor wretch,
A bite of food, a fire where she could stretch,
A word of kindness and a loving touch,
Such simple needs, and yet, for her, too much.

And so she sought a place where she could rest
To plan tomorrow's hard survival quest.
A city doorway, gated for the night,
Shielded from rain and winter's icy bite.

She couldn't read graffiti on the walls,
She'd never seen the Shankill or the Falls,
What did she know of bigotry and hate,
just innocently huddled at her gate?

"No casualties" they said, "No lives were lost,"
In stick and stone alone we count the cost,
"No casualties, all's well" - that's what they said,
And yet, poor cat, you suffered, and are dead.

Written as an epitaph and memorial to all the cats, domestic and feral, who suffered
and died in the 30 years of Ulster's 'troubles'. Published in The Cat (March/April 2001)
http://www.cats.org.uk