Glimpses of their shallow leathery wings,
can be seen when the moon has risen high,
and glows his faces over the forest trees,
etching silhouettes with his lunar eye.
Their sounds are heard only by the moonlight,
while in flight they dance on as the star sings.
Their papery arms stretch towards the blackness,
for they carry the night on their fine wings.
Author notes
On my way to work if I have an early morning shift their are bats flying around still. I have always liked bats. Their is something magical about them.
Comments
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I always love to watch bats fluttering about in the night air. Silent and so fast, darting about as they hunt. This poem brought the memories of watching the little creatures to life.
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Wow...you can actually be called "Batwoman" change your car to purple or ride a purple cycle...yes what we get to see when we are about to get off the nightshift...don't go Lionel Richie on me now...lol when I say that word I think of his song, anyhoo, this piece is amazing to describe the flying mice, the flap different from a bird, fluttery. You really brought out some beauty in this tiny creature. Excellent. Blessings.
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great write i loved it, it makes me think
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