This poem was originally published in the Winter 2023 print issue. Video content was produced with support from Canadian Heritage through the Business Innovation component of the Canadian Periodical Fund.
oh bats that fly
across city skies
when night falls leaving days
suspended
from old trees
in royal gardens to my house
and beyond
and beyond by hundreds
and hundreds
of black patterns moving
without sound
so far stretched
across the dimming sky
I love you please
send to me
to my senses what you see
through sonic eyes
by this crepuscule instant when
daytime-knowing
in slow
motion
crashes
quietly
into inky
insight
I close my eyes
so I can see
what really is
what I
really ammmmm
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