CLAUDIA EMERSON

The Bat

We didn't know what woke us—just something
           moving, lighter than our breathing. The world
                      bound by an icy ligature, our house

was to the bat a hollow, warmer cavity
           that now it could not leave. I screamed
                      for you to do something. So you killed it

with the broom; I heard you curse as you
           swept the air. I wanted you to do it until
                      you did. I have never forgiven you.