by Robert Crawford
We come like bats that out of a dark cave
Have suddenly been scared into the day,
Blear-eyed and vexed as here and there they flap,
Unnatural denizens of such a world.
So seem we all, as this were not our home,
And we, as aliens in these elements,
Move here and there, purblind, heart-weary, and
Possessed with many fears, till Death's new dark
Shows us our passage back to the old cave,
Whence Birth before may have affrighted us.
Last updated January 14, 2019