We feel them before we see them,
those bats that dive and swoop
around the pole of light.

We are ten. All whoop and holler.
The farm at night cradles us in noise—
bark, whinny, the lunacy of crickets.

It haunts us, and so we hurl rocks
straight up in a fit of giggles and howl
when a bat soars in, mistakes a rock for food.

The instinct of echo makes it swerve
just in time. But then we derail one.
We thought this is what we were

willing to do—to trick. To brand fire,
disrupt orbits, the little heretics
crashing in the dark. Now our smallness

crumples at our feet. We inch towards
the soft mound, the bat brought to earth,
and form a circle. Shocked by what we summoned. 


Trista Edwards holds a Ph.D. in Creative Writing from the University of North Texas. She is also the curator and editor of the anthology, Till The Tide: An Anthology of Mermaid Poetry (Sundress Publications, 2015). She is currently working on her first full-length poetry collection but until then you can read her poems at The Journal, Mid-American Review, 32 Poems, Birmingham Poetry Review, The Boiler Journal, Sou’wester, Queen Mob's Tea House, and more. She writes about travel, ghosts, and poetry on her blog, Marvel + Moon. Trista is a contributing editor at Luna Luna Magazine.