Bats in the Attic


Bats in the Attic by Margaret Gillies Brown First Published in 'The Lie of the Land' 2004

	Springtime - hibernation over - Dusk and they emerge, the Pipistrelles, one by single one, a hundred or more as if flung at fast, neat intervals from the dimness of an attic by some unseeable Godhand. They follow-my-leader into fading light, to flutter down green avenues of darkness in ancient ritual: Pale winged bodies reclaiming flightpaths with radar precision. You share their home - Ignoring the smell, the strange scrapings, high pitched squeakings. Reckon they've lived here longer, have greater need. You tell us it's a privilege to share... witness pre-history.

by Margaret Gillies Brown

First Published in 'The Lie of the Land' 2004

Springtime - hibernation over -
Dusk and they emerge,
the Pipistrelles,
one by single one,
a hundred or more
as if flung at fast, neat intervals
from the dimness of an attic
by some unseeable Godhand.
They follow-my-leader
into fading light, to flutter
down green avenues of darkness
in ancient ritual:
Pale winged bodies
reclaiming flightpaths
with radar precision.

You share their home -
Ignoring the smell,
the strange scrapings,
high pitched squeakings.
Reckon they've lived here longer,
have greater need.

You tell us it's a privilege to share... witness pre-history.