In The Night There Flow The Bats Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

In the night
there flow the bats
fearless
over the cemetery.

over the graves
and dreaming tombs
over
the creaking and the
yawning
openings
the rise of figures dark
the shuttering of light
that comes and goes


figures
that stand erect
and white or shadowy
pace their restless
vigor
round the cemeteries
ghost to ghost
meeting:
shroud to shroud:
the lemon the Sub-Conscious
squeezed
such
ah! that these remain
as long as they will
before the Dawn