The bat oversees the entire village,
Blindly, wildly reaching for berries.
Down below, by a couple's cottage,
No one knows a legend's flying.
He had terrified many into pilgrimage—
Made them stock their flock with crosses;
Unknowingly rocked capes now vintage
Years before this very hunt had happened.
This flight led to a colorful window-ledge,
Where a young lady was spotted within,
Staring, counting ticking seconds ahead
Of their unfortunate passing, it seems.
The bat snuck past her now-busy head,
Stretched out an arm, opened the fridge,
Took some berries and even some bread,
Fluffing pillows before she went to bed.
Comments about this poem (The Bat by Edwin Cordero )
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