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Emily And The Bat

Felix Dennis
April 7, 2014
Mandalay, Mustique
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A bat went about—his business,
As I sat on a darklit porch,
Watching the lights of Bequia Isle
Like cats eyes in a torch.

The pain had mostly subsided,
And I knew I had an hour
Before that—imbecilic—brute—
Backtracked to test his power.

And I thought of the formal feeling
That Emily made her own—
Immortal lines—so often—seem—
Composed for you alone.

The bat skimmed over a rooftop,
I wished him well in his hunt,
And wished for wings like his to fly
From what I must confront.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes —
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs —

       —Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)