The Bat's Dilemma Poem by Tony Adah

The bat is not
An animal that is bad
It is quiet
And self-conscious of his ways
He and his buddies
Doing their things only at night
Though may have his foibles
To the chagrin of man,
He averts all these
Flying lonely only with his kind
Sits upside down on the bench
Of a bough wary of the
Snares of man.
Quiet as his birth may be
He is neither here nor there
Wings he has to
Put him in the clan of birds
And mammals claim
Him their type
For his furs
This is why his funeral rites
Are not easy to perform.
And he is at a loss
To cut his Wings
Or to shave his hair.
His carcass is
At the crossroads
Bereft of mourners.
Man who should intervene
To give him a befitting burial
Turns out today to accuse
Him of complicity
In the new story
Making rounds in town.