The Bats Are Screaming

The bats are screaming
They be the violins
Of the eves
Of sadness in my eyes:
Be that why
They come in troops
At dusk because I pine?
From the window
I peer and I pine
Before black dots fly
Irregular;
Probability and chance;
A Brownian motion in the
Skies
And
Heavens
Immense
I am mourning
I am mourning
The bats are screaming.

by Emmanuel George Cefai

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