Cat, a poem by Richard Prime at



written by: Richard Prime


You hear her moving about upstairs,
The soft pad of her feet, or a meowl,
And the dulled thump as she leaps
Onto a bed. She’s like a ghost,

Invisible to you, in a place stilled
From your sight, echoing, but here
Within this thick pelt, your
Strongest gaze will be absorbed,

And utterly disappear, like a rage,
Howling in the dark, pounding the
Walls, and she takes this anger,
And pacifies when she purrs beneath

Your hand, or moves her cheek
Against your palm. All the words
We said have fallen into her. She
Curls up and sleeps with them.

Voices sing from her, as if she’s
The audience, and all at once as
If awakened, she turns her face
To yours; suddenly you’re small

Inside the golden amber of her eyes,
And you touch the pendant at your throat.

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