Hiding From Bats by KG Newman

Hiding From Bats

Luna moths live in my late grandfather’s

gifted, tattered La-Z-Boy,

which sits centered in my basement

and sees nightly therapeutic use.

By that I mean, beat by another day,

I recline alone in front of the TV,

heavier by the 12-ounce can as moths

walk out into the night, already decided

on what to do with just a week of life.

Their brevity and missing mouths makes

for effective advisors, never ones

to flutter in my juiced ear with

what I want to hear. Like my grandfather:

Last night one indicated he’s seen

small growths in self-improvement,

even as my intentions burn like incense

in the wide moonlit room — the parallels

from sitcoms unable to save me now,

the smoke rings on the ceiling

a dwindling sign of any living thing.

KG Newman

KG Newman is a sportswriter who covers the Broncos and Rockies for The Denver Post. His first three collections of poems are available on Amazon. The Arizona State University alum is on Twitter @KyleNewmanDP and more info and writing can be found at kgnewman.com. He lives in Castle Rock, Colorado, with his wife and two kids.

About this poem

"Hiding From Bats came to me late one night when, yes, I was rocking in my grandfather's La-Z-Boy in my basement, drinking beer and watching TV. This chair was very important to my grandfather late in his life and the small grandkids had to put a towel down on it to use it, so it wouldn't get messed up. Anyways all this backstory came to mind when a moth fluttered out of the bottom of the chair, and I got to thinking about how short life is... and how often that shortness can be a matter of perspective."

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