birdlife comes for
its breakfast every morning
the magpies are my
friends, I give them porridge and apple-pie
the cats don’t
bother them
they don’t yet
have names
— unless they have
names for me
‛soft touch’,
‛soft head’, ‛human’
the currawongs are
warier
they eat
surreptitiously
as if about to be
chased off
the mynahs don’t
beg just screech at the cats
one ate one once
about 2010 I think
the elephants of the
skies
pee-wees are rare
and the crested
pigeons never come
nevertheless I spend
too long feeding
and talking like I
am mad
they cock their
heads
scattered across the
lawn like rosary beads
tossed by an
apostate
I totally identify - currently, a family of 4 King parrots are demolishing my banana crop . ..that's almost 150 kilos in human terms. They have names for me, too. Lyrical sounding names like 'cat lover'.
ReplyDeleteWho ate who, precisely? My cat was terrified of the mynahs.
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ReplyDeleteLoves dis poem. Loves dem birds.
ReplyDeleteThanks to da both of yez!
ReplyDeleteIt was Emily (one of my cats) who ate the mynah, and she has literally never heard the end of it.
So interesting. The mynahs used to screech at my former cats, who hunted them, often successfully, even when they were elderly. My new cat, a rescue cat 8 years old, is a timid thing. She likes the small, enclosed back yard and never seeks to go beyond it, nor to hunt birds (cannot, unfortunately, say the same about lizards). The mynahs seem to have learned this very quickly and no longer shriek at her nor dive-bomb her.
ReplyDelete