A Scavenging Song
Sea air shimmers in the evening haze; The gentle rays from a setting sun Reflect the remnants of the passing storm, Cascading skywards in prismic
Birds
Swallowed by the Sea
Sailing swiftly along the salted seashore, Your whiteish throat flanks brown streaks That accentuate comedic orange brows. Amongst saline marshes and sunken reeds You build
The Curious Case of the Cassowary Casque
An incendiary flash of colour – Your violent hues scatter the scrub; We watch as you forage for food, Using your casque like a fork.
Learning to Listen
As weathers change the birds migrate, Flocking en masse like living freight; They have decanted overseas, The notes of birdsong on the breeze. In
A Fractured Song
Beneath the rock lies liquid gold, With pressures set and bills to fold; But prospectors should be aware, Removal must be done with care.
A History of Soot Preserved in Feathers
When gliding through our old and rusty skies, You filtered out the wheezing, blackened air; A century of progress built on lies, Now captured in
The Selflessness of Magpies
A selfish streak of silver in their heart, These scavengers are thieves without a band; In altruistic goals they play no part, An archipelago with
Forbidden Dreams
You cast off with a heavy heart, A flash of bloodshot as you leap; And even though this is the start, The ocean waves call
The Sparrowhawk
At the end of my garden I see you perched quietly, Your orange belly glowing Like a slowly setting sun. A dead leaf tumbles
These Flying Beasts Are Hooked on Junk
The white storks glide across the sky, Migrating south in times gone by; But now like Burroughs in his funk, These flying beasts are hooked