The Feast Begins Anew: NaPoWriMo 2015, Day Three

Once, there was a little bat whose nose was made of gold leaf.
She flew on wings of silver floss when the moon was so low
it almost touched the quiet ground where field mice ran along,
pulled on threads they couldn’t feel, by an unknown, unseen hand
as the bat stopped at all the flowers waiting in her realm,
gathering pollen, nectar, and their dreams of children yet
unborn. That whole world waits now for her return, on a night
when the sky is a picnic blanket of stars, and the feast
begins anew, the bat awakening her wings for flight.

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