Batty Nights Poem by Oishani Sengupta

Sometimes, it is useless to wonder
Why bats play on the radio every purple night.
Look at them rise in flight.
Bats of every colour
Bringing news of Delhi to the Savannas.
There goes Papa Bat,
His wide-rimmed spectacles askew
Off to his morning nap.
Mama turns on the radio louder
'Look what cousin Freddie has to say.'
The sun loop-de-looping every day
In its unsuspecting orbit.
'I am tired of going around in circles '
The bat from Kentucky whispers
Looking at her shiny green nail paint
Sometimes, it is good to let go.