bats in

some chirping in the wall
tells me they are back to winter over
we assume they use magic to get in
and will use magic to get out.
meantime,
we have very few mosquitoes
in the warm weather
just enough to feed our neighbours

About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to bats in

  1. Danae McCarroll says:

    I have a fondness for bats, and do think they’re rather magical. This is a lovely poem, very apt and beautifully written. I was surprised momentarily with the very last word, as I was expecting to read, “tenants.”

    I’m happy to have found your blog. Nice work!

    • riverwriter says:

      Thanks for your interest, Danae. I used “neighbours” rather deliberately, after some reflection, because I see them as fellow travelers on the planet; we have a sort of symbiosis: they keep the bug population down in the warm times, and we keep them sheltered particularly in the cold times.

      If I remember correctly, there are a couple of other “bat” poems in this collection, and they are not quite so benign. One might come upon them by entering “bat” into the search spot at the top right of any page.

Leave a Reply to Danae McCarroll Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.