Undergrowth
black bat flower speaks to me
invited intensity, profound propensity.
its wings and whiskers —
spooky, grotesque.
its bouquet of flowers, teeth
that devour fear,
courage to stand my ground.
it’s said, don’t linger too long
in its centerfold song.
deep darkness swallows
one whole,
an eye entrenched
in one’s soul.
blue moon or so,
a pity party,
boundary of bracts and bracteoles,
seething bat seeds,
tears that moisten undergrowth soil
with brisk breeze.
one’s madness, compassion,
strength, prattle unleashed.
11/17/2020
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2020
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