The Bat

Cambridge_rain_smallFirst dark, then more dark
smoothed down over it.

First sleep, then eyes
open to the ceiling
where something circles.  For a moment,
you can’t name it.  And for a moment

you’re not afraid.  Remember

Blake’s angels, how they leaned
toward each other, and balanced
by touching only the tips of their wings?
Between their bodies, a space

like the one just after rain begins, when rain
isn’t rain, but the smell
of dust lifted, something silent and clean.

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