Batwings
(i)
Bone sticks
beat taut skin. How
they hammer the night thin
and pound out rhythms to dance up
the sky.
(ii)
At dawn,
syncopated rhythms roll up
like scrolls. Music flutters
in a parchment
of wings.
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Amaze Vol.
4, No. 3
Go to the
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All poems are copyright © 2006 by their respective authors.
