Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Wednesday, January 30, 2013


The day is done now; comes the gloaming
Creatures of the dark are roaming
Wings of leather, bodies warm
Gracefulness of function, form
Like two hands inside of gloves
Circling the sky above 
Clicks and echoes in the night
Shadowed hunters take to flight
Blackness ends now; sunrise soon
Hide again, birds of the moon.

Moon Bats by RichO

submitted for Poetic Bloomings, Prompt 92, Gone To the Birds (I know bats are not birds, but they fly and they're cool!)


Mary Mansfield said...

Very nice! Bats really are like "birds of the moon" aren't they?

Kathe W. said...

birds of the moon- oooo I like that!

Marianne said...

Hide from me! You scary bats!

Brian Miller said...

smiles...we used to toss stuff up to the bats in the church parking lot...to watch them dive and dance...

Fireblossom said...

Bats are better than haiku. In fact, bats kick haiku's skinny ass. Strut, bats! Strut, preen, pose, turn. Oh yeah. *gangsta signs* Bats rule. Hayl yeah.

Mynx said...

Love this. Makes me think of the flying foxes (fruit bats) up north of Australia and their nightly flights

Helena said...

A lot of people don't like bats but I think they're strangely attractive. This is perfect homage to our long fingered friends!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I love "birds of the moon"........that phrase just delights me. Awesome write, kiddo. I love that word "gloaming".

Claudette Young said...

I have to agree with the others, Lola. You've hit on the most perfect description and designation for them; birds of the moon. Love it.

Lovely poem, too.