I tried to find a good Friday the 13th poem today (our second in a row!), but I couldn't find one I really liked, so I chose this poem by Theodore Roethke instead cuz bats are pretty creepy when you really look at them.
The Bat - Theodore Roethke
By day the bat is cousin to the mouse.
He likes the attic of an aging house.
His fingers make a hat about his head.
His pulse beat is so slow we think him dead.
He loops in crazy figures half the night
Among the trees that face the corner light.
But when he brushes up against a screen,
We are afraid of what our eyes have seen:
For something is amiss or out of place
When mice with wings can wear a human face.
This is a picture of some fruit bats I took at the Oregon Zoo recently.
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