Arts + Scene » Poetry

The Little Bat



walking and talking

into the wind and a cell phone

alone, on this night in Santa Fe

there, in the corner of buildings butted up against

each other, is the bat, the small little bat,

a creature seeking heat against

the cold - alone

folded about himself

I am seeking the same from you

sonar perfected, reaching

across wide spaces

only dreamed of by these

who huddle close


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