An hour when the daylight drains.
Casting about in shadows,
A distant bat holds to its One Course,
Intent, flickering moments across an ebbing sky
Circumnavigated by the certainty of trees, sky, air
In a furious fling that dances and captures and must tear
But from this distance – bloodless -
Is a scattered sign that even in suburbia
The leading edge of mystery begins with a small thing
Going about its duties in an unthought way
- as if my hand could reach out and touch more
Sept. 2001
Watching a bat at dusk
