The Bat Poem by Theodore Roethke
The Bat
By day the bat is cousin to the mouse.
He likes the attic of an aging house.
His fingers make a hat about his head.
His pulse beat is so slow we think him dead.
He loops in crazy figures half the night
Among the trees that face the corner light.
But when he brushes up against a screen,
We are afraid of what our eyes have seen:
For something is amiss or out of place
When mice with wings can wear a human face.
Roethke was one of my first intros to poetry. Much of his work is well constructed and inspiring for a young writer. Now an old writer, he is simply vintage to revisit and remember - slc
This makes me pumped up before my matchs and icome to my smackdowns! ! ! !
Roethke is a master of both humor and the poetic skills to present such enjoyable pieces of work!
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4/17/2024 10:59:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
For something is amiss! Thanks for sharing.