Poetry

all the bugs and then late in the evening
during the cooler air, out they come

blind as they are, using echo location
as their incredible tool
why, if you ever dissected one,
it's nothing more than a rodent, say a rat with wings.

And they are plentiful in the cool evening air,

As well as amazing, living on a different kind of planet
in some sense of the word.

I love your poem here, RSherman, quite original.

Peace!