The fruit bat splash of nightly feeders,
a wash of green sound that plashes behind eyes.
Billowing spinnaker-trees side-sway,
absorb force, correct
course,
scud back, brave.
Hook-fingered flapper leather-surfs leaf-crest,
searches for choicest treasure
and attacks.
Dextrous tongue swift-flick-licks ferment
while foxy orange jaws crunch
the near-ripe bounty.
But the sweetest prize is best
elegantly savoured,
rich skin nibble-cleared, then seeping pulp
slow-devoured.
Oh, they are pirates, bounty hunters,
crop raiders
but their greedy child-like feasting
wild-stirs the heart
and I follow their noise-charted course
smile-soothed,
floating         aft.