fast hand wings
of evening bats
streak through stellar space
flying and falling
between dark pines
cupped ears far above me
are snaring echoes
I do not hear
and I cannot decipher
the flying points of light
flashing in my eyes
and in the trees
a million voices
not meant for me
the red sun has gone
and left me here
alone on warm land
under a purple sky
surrounded by
the inscrutable signals
of other lives
*
Image: “SummerNight” by Tullio, altered ink drawing, 2012
