Chiroptera

They are born with hand like
Wings of membrane clad digits
they spread to fly
Aviated, navigated
For nocturnal hunts
In perfect darkness
Where others feign

They cry a pulse
Echolocating
Mates or competition
Images of prey
And images of space
The night returns their sound

They are quick
Delicate wings
Stretch to out maneuver
Enemy or prey
But membrane tissue tears easily
Sensitive skin with receptors
Like fingertips
Small tears regrow... regenerate