It is beginning;
the air blue-black, clear,dark sparkled with insects.
Bats stretch into the night
silent as they swoop.
Soon the sky will darken,
the trees become shadows
shaped by stars.
I’m held in time
as still as the shells in stone
that warms my back.
As quiet as the bats
that do not disturb my dream.
© Anthony Fisher 15 June 2000

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