Bats after the Hurricane

You’d think us shadows
but our bodies hang,
soft palmfuls of air
emanating heat
which pours over you,
as from hidden suns,
our five-toed feet curved
round restored, exposed
beams, wings jacketing
bodies, heads pointed
down, numberless
guano colonies
forming beneath us.
The city, upside
down through the windows,
is shedding itself,
buildings stripped bare of
their human makers;
soon we will fill them.