Eleventh Day – Common pipistrelle bat
Pipistrelle
As sunset stains the sky
they pour like mercury from the gap
in the outbuilding door.
Swoop, zip and circle
in the glare of light around the lamp,
catch moths on the wing.
Jerk, twist and turn,
hoover up lacewings and biting midges
in fluid aerobatic displays.
Not black, a warm cognac;
these flittermice click songflights,
slice through air.
Matchbox-small,
beady eyes glitter like black stars
in tiny dog faces.
A strange kind of mammal,
they sleep upside down, umbrella wings spread
ready for the next sunset.
-Annest Gwilym

A Pipistrellus pipistrellus (i.e., the common pipistrelle) sits in the hands of a researcher.


Pipistrelles by Amanda Bell

-Hannah Linden
Moor Park on Guy Fawkes Night 2020
A couple walking laps
have paused to watch
a startled bat wheel
round a bare tree,
a lost leaf flapping
blindly in the storm.
They walk away
while it still circles,
knowing it will fly
till it collapses
in the dark
where people meet
illicitly to light
black market fireworks
and watch them throw
their fleeting shapes
defiantly into the sky.
–Katerina Neocleous
Bios and Links
-Annest Gwilym
Author of two books of poetry: Surfacing (2018) and What the Owl Taught Me (2020), both published by Lapwing Poetry. Annest has been published in many literary journals and anthologies, both online and in print, and placed in several writing competitions, winning one. She is a nominee for Best of the Net 2021.
-Katerina Neocleous
is a British Greek poet, and co edits the quarterly poetry magazine, ‘Obsessed With Pipework’. She is published in multiple poetry journals and anthologies. In 2019 she was commissioned to make a short film about her poetry, for a national museum & art gallery. Her chapbook is called ‘Wish’ (Maytree Press); and a full collection is forthcoming from Flarestack Publishing. Visit her at katneocleouspoet.com for more information.