Bats

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!)