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With a flick of a wrist, she draws them about

No need for a costume, she’s real, there’s no doubt

They fly around her, like suitors, not pets

No matter their fate, they’ll have no regrets

For they are the ones, the protectors of she

Who will fall to their death, her sweet devotees

Should they be unable to fight away others

Jeopardize this woman, their chiropteran mother

She’s unafraid to reveal, as nighttime does fall

That she’s merely a girl, with bats that enthrall

Though she is no marvel, in DC she reigns

Searching for the likes of a man they call Wayne


©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0