Glass in Your Feet - Fruit Bats

Deaths head moth, and a honeybee, and the flightless birds with the useless

wings

In the diamond mines of the Indian head, beneath the sawdust moon with the

frozen rings

Mastodons and hummingbirds in an endless loop on the windy plain

Chestnut mares and the bison herds and the poison toads in the sugarcane

There are rainbows as the light refracts through the glass in your feet

Blue and green as the wind attacks and the glaciers retreat

Death’s head moth and a honeybee and the flightless birds on the ground so cold

Maple leaves are gently falling from the eaves, silver tongues on the golden

road