Born Free?

My cat,
Despite being a little huntress,
Is forced to stay inside.
I can sometimes feel
The pain in her tiny heart
As she gazes out the window,
Longing for what she can never have:
The chance to run wild and free,
Chasing after whatsoever she wants.
When the windows are ajar
She silently rejoices,
Springs eagerly to the sill,
Perches near the screen
And delicately sniffs
The fresh springtime air.
What simple delight she takes,
And yet, what sorrow, too,
As she lusts for that ever elusive thing:
freedom.