Night Flier

The night is black,
Or so I assume-
I do not see in light,
I see in sound.

My leather wings,
So unique to me
And my brothers,
Glide upon the air-
Not slicing it like a dragonfly,
Nor beating it like a sparrow-
Merely use it as a cushion,
Keeping me from the ground
So far below.

But not too far,
For my prey lurk near it-
The moths
And flies
And other dainty morsels.

I must eat well tonight,
For I have not done so
In many days.
The prey is leaving the woods
To lurk in darker,
Shinier,
Smellier places,
Inhabited by the tall ground-dwellers,
And springing up
With a speed
No tree could achieve.

My colony awaits me,
In my cave,
In my sanctuary.
My family hangs from the ceiling
Awaiting my return.

I fly home,
Gorged upon my meal
Of the creatures the ground-dwellers
Draw to them
With their smells
And their food.

The clicks echoing back
To my senstitive ears
Tell me that I am close to my cave,
So close
To home,
To family,
To friends and sleep and peace.

I feel the change
In the air
As I enter the cave,
And I unconsciously click,
Waiting to hear the answering sounds
Of my brothers.

But I hear nothing.

My brothers are gone,
Driven away by the ground-dwellers.

They are nothing more now
Than a forgotten echo,
A fading scent
Of a fading life
In a dark and lonely cave.