Days of Crystalline

Fat midnight bats feast, gnawing gnats, and flit away serene
      while on the trails in distant dales the lonesome wolverine
             sate appetites on foggy nights and daytimes crystalline.

A migrant feeds on rotting seeds with fingers far from clean
      and thereby’s blest with a barren breast (the easier to wean) -
             her baby sucks an arid flux and fades away unseen.

Reviews

[Firebird]

Days of crystalline..I love that phrase! Its beautiful.. and I live the rhythm and sound of this poem.

[iand63]

Of shadows and the wild we are all built. There is a real sense of tranquility and balance in this.

[Terry O'Leary]

Thank you, iand63!

[Jimmy Yetts]

Lovely, dark and a bit menacing.
Cleverly crafted quatrain!

[Terry O'Leary]

Thank you, Jimmy!