The Innisfree Poetry Journal

www.innisfreepoetry.org

by Glen Armstrong

Sign of the Bat


With its creature incoherence,
with its engine bent on nothing,

with its edge and its existence
and its fuse that refuses
no night,

the bat
allows everything beyond
itself to rush

in
against its echo.

In that world of sound,
what maps, what songs?


Copyright 2006-2012 by Cook Communication