Angel Bat

I love my friends. I love how images can collide and quirkily meld and be alchemized into a poem. This is a very rough draft at best. It’s daylight now, so the bats are at rest. But time for some poetry practice and to exercise my bizarre little brain.

And you two will know who you are, my bright sparks both near and far.

Angel Bat

Winged night angel

Hitching a lift, a mortal whiff

Inside this delicate

Mammalian body

Who can also fly

Answering to the

Sonic chatter. Listen!

It recalls some previous

Incarnation before the Fall.

It comes as some angelic

Call to action

Answering need or plea

A kind of soul sonar

So that those wandering

Can bump into each other at night

Bats decay so delicately

Tiny bones and voile membrane

They are mistaken for

Fairy skeleton

Proof of their existence


Fairy, angel or bat

With a swoop and squeal

A shift in their shape

Just like that!

Copyright Bee Smith 2018

One thought on “Angel Bat

  1. Oh, my! This is sublime. “A kind of soul sonar/So that those wandering/Can bump into each other at night..”. Yup; I know how that feels. Thank you; thank you; thank you.


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