<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460272" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The poem called</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">and when the cat had finished drinking<br>and he had watched that delicate pink tongue<br>lapping as carefully as any lady<br>and had wondered whether cats enjoy this patient method<br>or whether they long to pour it down their throats, carelessly<br>and savagely, as they live wildly in the nights</div><div style="margin:10px 0">then he heard the poem call<br>faintly, almost indifferently, the sound unmistakeable<br>yet always different<br>this time it came from a far distance<br>beyond the cat, though the cat was somehow part of it, <br>beyond the yard where he had once and never forgot<br>put a bullet into the old dog that<br>could not stop shaking</div><div style="margin:10px 0">beyond the barn, beyond the field<br>where he nuzzled his favourite of the horses<br>and it allowed this intimacy, patiently; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">so far beyond, so faint, the cry that poems make<br>as they, like cats, like dogs, like horses<br>who know nature so much more certainly than we<br>the sound that poems make as they wait patiently<br>to be found</div><div style="margin:10px 0">he walked towards it but many times was lost, <br>he had to stop, stand still, listen, <br>and wait to hear that sound<br>recognisable but different every time</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and when he and the poem had found each other<br>they were for a moment, silent, still, <br>then both turned to look over his shoulder<br>to where, yet further still, <br>the next poem had begun to call to him, faintly, almost indifferently, <br>the sound familiar, yet never quite the same</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460272" data-title="The poem called de Michael Shepherd" data-description="and when the cat had finished drinking and he had watched that delicate pink tongue lapping as carefully as any lady and had wondered whether cats enjoy this patient method or whether they long to pour it down their throats, carelessly and savagel..."></div> </div> </div>

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