Leveler Poetry Journal
About Leveler Submission Guidelines More Poems

Palo Verde


We leave dinner before dusk

set up mist nets

in the old landing strip,

stagger the angles,

wait for the omnivorous, the sanguivorous.


Headlamps yield clusters of light,

pick up bluegreen spider eyes

peering from black cracks in the dry marsh.


Thick-gloved, gentle, we untangle bats

from slings in the nets,

measure their warm fleshy winghands,

identify their tiny faces,

toss them back in the air to release.


A Study

of Microchiropteran Diversity

and Ecomorphology.


A vampire shrieks in the hands of my professor,

I know, I know you want to eat my soul.

We look at his teeth,

his long thumbs for walking,

his soft rage-filled body.



Before dawn I climb the iron tower

that faces mountains and river.

When light hits the water,

only the small things are moving

and grasses, white feathers.

Katy Diana