(poetry diary 159) I was going to post some heavy poem or other about politics but will take a break and post one about a black cat instead. The last stanza of this one helps give perspective, anyway.
Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Stephen Mitchell
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place
your sight can knock on, echoing; but here
within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze
will be absorbed and utterly disappear: