Courtesy Edge of the Woods Nursery
Little bats are flittering above the paddock
Their spirals rise and pivot as the quarry tacks—
They fall and what they look for is invisible—
Mosquitoes in the shadows are unseeable
Tame ponies snort and pat the gentle dust—
Cicadas rasp—the shrilling gassy toads,
The climbing frogs their intervals adjust
Beside the night-blind forests and the empty roads
Now the air is cooler and the forest black—
Flittering above the paddock little bats
As though there were another thing that hunted me
Invisible in spirals as I twisted free
“Come, turn around and do not be afraid,
Be of good heart and see what I have made”