Under
the bridge a homeless man shivers
On
a cardboard mattress he hopes will keep
The
frigid cement
from chilling bones.
The
cold, overcast day dims his shelter.
In
tattered overcoat he
hugs
himself
tightly
to
quiet
Fine
tremors
spreading
from
bowel and marrow.
Under
the bridge he gazes up,
Burrowing
into shadows with blood-shot eyes.
There
is a seething in the shaded corners
Causing
a tide of fear to engulf him:
Is
something moving there
In
the umbral underbelly of the overpass?
He
has seen the dark recesses jitter before
Then
coalesce into wraiths and demons.
The
obscure niche seems to swirl like muddy water
In
Chocolate Bayou after a deluge.
He
rubs his eyes now watery from the effort,
But
his vision only becomes more animated.
It
reminds him of litter eddying in a wintry
wind.
But
finally he sees the bats huddling body to body.
At
dusk clouds clear, leave
the sky washed clean.
The bats rise en masse like
thick plumes of smoke;
And
with them the high-pitched chatter
And
rodent smell of the colony
As
it smudges the perfect cobalt blue
Of
this autumnal twilight.
written
7/18/2011-1/5/2013
(30
lines,
193
words)
published in Austin International Poetry Festival's 2013 Anthology
Di-verse-city
