Finding Bats in the Spring Woods at Twilight - Barbara A Meier

Inspired by Pattiann Rogers

It takes a certain hearing, to discern the bat from the bird

in a late afternoon, when the light diminishes Woodrat Mountain.

I hear the swoop of wings beating the soft air

of twilight, humming in the downsweep 

of a dusky afternoon breeze

An aerial battlefield of nectar and mosquito,

with the feeding buzz of the fringed myotis 

and the whir of the dive-bombing male rufous hummingbird.

Bright Venus comes out to play 

with the silver fishing hook moon,

Pacific tree frogs bellow their desire in her cold light,

cicadas hammering away at their legs:

a symphony of sound crescendoing

then pianissimo 

when they discern my steps into the night

I lose sight of the magical creatures living in the night.

Pausing the recording of my life in their silence 

of fear

waiting for the confidence to come back

first one whir, 

a solitary croak,

then joining in an adagio of night wings born at the 

edge

of the forest

up to the meadow

sliding gray to brown to black.

Originally published by Nightingale and Sparrow Literary Magazine, Woodland issue 8, 2020

Barbara A Meier is a retired teacher who works in a second grade classroom in Lincoln, KS. Her  recent publications include: The Fourth River, Plainsongs,  synkroniciti, and The Poetry Lighthouse. She has been nominated for the Best of the Net and a Pushcart Award.  She has three chapbooks published: “Wildfire LAL 6”, from Ghost City Press, “Getting Through Gold Beach”, from Writing Knights Press, and  “Sylvan Grove”, from The Poetry Box. She loves all things ancient.