A speaker sits in a roofed space, perhaps an old abandoned building, watching light fall through the cracks and remembering someone. The sunbeams feel like arrows to the heart, and the golden dust and cooing doves bring him back to mind. The poem then turns darker. The bats, calm and still, remind her of him as he once seemed, gentle until he "savoured the sweetness of my blood." The image suggests a lover who drained or hurt her, or perhaps a vampire, and the poem leaves that open.
As the light fades, the doves leave, the wind drops, and the bats begin to stir. The mood shifts from wistful to tense. What stands out is the final line: she is not running from him. She waits, listening for his footsteps, caught between fear and longing. The poem suggests she is drawn to the very person who hurt her.