"Quiet Night"

A weekly poem, read by the author.
July 29 2003 11:14 AM

Quiet Night

Listen to Robert Wrigley reading this poem. The bat's opened thorax blips

        —that's its heart

beating, says the child—and its mouth bites at

        the air, and the cat

that brought it down sits two steps below

        and preens, while the pale cone

shed by the porch light makes and remakes itself

        with the shadows of miller, moth, and midge.

Listen, the darkness just under the stars

        is threaded with passings:

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