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Bats without a number
Return with the low tide
Spots they are
Gainst the sky
Stripe-like cirrus
A Sunset pious...
There's the Crescent
Lunar, present
With the stars bright
It will soon night.
Where they'd gone
What they'd done
Is out of turn
Now they've return'.
The bats are back
As day goes dark
In a trail Aliyah
And their sail Aloha.