Exorcism   As I played cricket with a golf Ball in our yard, driving it hard, A kitten strayed into its path, And screeching, frantically intent, Squeezed between weatherboard and ground,   A gap too narrow for my hand. It must have died at once, since I Heard nothing more until today, Sixty years on, its miaow in My head drove me to write this poem. Graeme Hetherington   Upper Heights and Lower Depths What heights remain beyond our reach When dog whistle and tuning fork, Straining to listen though we may, Sound notes pitched too high for our ear,…