Let's Decide

Less of charity 
was needed, when you sleep 
till dawn. 

The spirit of the tree 
comes down to 
wake up the sage. 

It spills the light 
for a troubled window 
cracked by hail. 

A drenched house 
of words 
becomes pale, page by page. 

I do not know 
how to tell the story 
of two bats which flew without wings.