a sign

i remember the dead bat
that was stuck
between the house, the brick
and the downspout,
a small thing, grey,
a ratty ball of fur,
but with sharp wings, and
tiny ball eyes looking out.
it was an omen of some sort.
each time i looked at it,
i felt a wave of dread, a darkening
cloud if i continued with this
person. it was there the day
i met her and was still there
the day she moved out
and in with me.
it was just a small dead bat,
but it was an omen, a true sign
to run, telling me stop,
don't go any further.
but i ignored it and paid the price
dearly.