...have they gone to Mexico
to join Camazotz, their bad bat god?
...can they hide their little fox faces
in caves until spring?
On this frigid night,
no bats, no bugs,
no sonar echoes,
no *gymnasts.
(In Summer- earlier poem)
*Black Lace
The moonlight crosses black lace
with a shimmy in the high branches.
Bat gymnasts toss and weave
on the parallel bars of the night.
to join Camazotz, their bad bat god?
...can they hide their little fox faces
in caves until spring?
On this frigid night,
no bats, no bugs,
no sonar echoes,
no *gymnasts.
(In Summer- earlier poem)
*Black Lace
The moonlight crosses black lace
with a shimmy in the high branches.
Bat gymnasts toss and weave
on the parallel bars of the night.
So sweet, "Can they hide their little fox faces".....love the black lace of the summer bats too.
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