Patrick Kavanagh

The Bat

I stand to night
Leg-deep in ripened white
Grasses that excite
Slow fires of mind.

And blind
Bat-winged I rise - 
A bat - 
Where little star-eyes
Round gables peer
For wondering at.

And I hear - 
Eve-dropping - 
The wiser-than-fool talking
And the hum-hum
Of a school-boy thinking out
A hard sum
Bat-winged my dream
Over shadow-meadows,
A bat.
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