Pass-by
My
Face
So close
I can feel
As well as
Hear
The fluttering
Of their leathery wings;
Imagine
Their sharp little teeth,
Open mouths,
Looking for moth
Or midge;
Struggling to interpret
My moving form
At four in the morning
Just,
As the sun starts to rise.
I think of throwing them a stone,
As
Jorg
Once advised me,
But cannot find any suitable
And so,
Leave them to
Flap
In darkened parabolas.
Dr Rod’s Odd Blog (almondemotion) 
Why would anyone advise throwing a stone — to test their echo location perhaps?An endangered species?
The rationality and beauty of the natural world……………however, versus the lingering, early learnt, deeply ingrained, superstition of the old wives tales ( not actually near my head please).
The darkened parabolas vivid through the words of the poet.
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