Ghosts Vouch for One of Their Own

Skull’s bones, the soul is just
Cat like a soft owl, cat
With paws like moths. It is

Not the skull’s gap, the cat
You thought. Soul is, for us,
A friend, just one of us,

A small word come from who
Knows where, who knows when. Some
Said it came from the lake

Or the sea, where it stopped
In the tongues that shaped it.
A cat then that can fish

Was the soul, that slipped through
The waves, no more than waves,
Our friend, strange term, the soul.