Spell

By the light of the campfire a single bat
flickers into existence. Unknown to you

before and after. Tissue-paper thing,
halloween-thing, thing ravaged by

the light of the campfire. A group
of bats is a colony or

a cauldron. A group of bats
is nothing to do with you;

a group of bats is a thing
beyond your care;

a group of bats is
gossamer.

Just outside the light
of the campfire:

a group of bats with
unnoticed

eyes.

---

Alice Wickenden is a PhD student, writer and poet; she has work forthcoming in Anthropocene and the TLS, and was recently a finalist in Variant Literature’s Chapbook Competition with her chapbook To Fall Fable. She writes primarily on nature, love, and the aftermaths of sexual assault, and is currently working on a book about camping.