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.