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Bat, Man!
by David HillRoad noise echoes in the valley,
resounds off the strip mall walls.
Gas fumes collect and settle here.
The sun beneath a cloud,
a shrinking orange wedge,
soon to disappear.
A “V” of twelve flies over
the dry cleaner,
the power line,
the Hollywood Video sign,
its one missing “L.”
Across the road, a boardwalk
plunges into the wetland, out
among gray bones of dead trees,
upright or down in brown water.
From this holy vantage,
I watch the coming darkness.
The geese fall,
head up, tail down,
wings cup the air,
paddle feet plane water.
They settle and softly honk.
Near shore,
a beaver tows a branch to his lodge.
Insects hatch and rise.
The bats come.
I look down;
the moon,
a quivering ghost face
beneath rippling water
I look up,
the most amazing thing;
in erratic flight,
a bat crosses
the glowing moon.
12/02/2009 Author's Note: To the east, it looks like wilderness. To the west, I see 3 big box drugstores. Beavers, blue herons, otters, muskrats, kingfishers, they all live here in this wetland, tucked in a busy intersection.
Posted on 12/02/2009
Copyright © 2024 David Hill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Nanette Bellman on 12/02/09 at 05:09 PM This is such a captivating ready, begining to end. It almost felt like you were setting us up for an invasion or the end of the world. Left me fully hanging on to the edge of my seats. Nice. |
| Posted by V. Blake on 12/02/09 at 08:11 PM This poem is awesome by itself. Ya know what makes it even better? If I pretend it's one of those text-adventure games. |
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