The last of the bat sequence, presented as a story in sonnets and images. I’ve read so much about you, seen you in pictures, videos. Merlin Tuttle wrote well about you and him together, and now all I want is to have you up close. At dusk I’ve gone out, hand in glove, in hopes that you’ll fly to me by divine command. I’ve hopped in car, with kids, drove over land to Arabia Mountain, to AWARE, thinking maybe I’ll find you there by chance. I’ve walked to bridge over Yellow River ducked beneath to see if you’re roosting there. To know you distantly is not enough. You are worth much more than all of life’s cares. To spend time with you up close would be wealth.