Rob Harle #17 Laughing
Mister Kookaburra is over the crescent moon,
the sculpture stone a low down perch
a convenient addition to his residence.
Madam Kookaburra watches from her high-tree-perch,
each morning they wait serenely
scraps from last night’s dinner forthcoming
provided by their humble human servant.
Always they laugh loudly.
How can I refuse such a happy soul,
this is their country - no mistake,
even the Magpies cannot ruffle their feathers,
these big-beaked-brutes are tough
they fly like B52 bombers,
clumsy,
harassed by the fighter jet Noisy Miners
cheeky but cautious,
always mindful of the massive crush-bone-beak.
Always they laugh loudly.
Concrete born and bred
I left that grey city life for this,
daily communion with this ancient land.
I laugh loudly.
So joyous!
ReplyDeleteBirds really know what to do with outdoor art. Especially like the beak phrases!
ReplyDeleteHa, Rob, Cheers. Sweet poem. I've spent a lot of time with kookaburras in the bush. One homestead on a station I worked on 100 years ago even had one as a pet - well, it was a free bird that sort of lived on the balcony railing out the back - and it was big, semi-settled and curious...but very non toccare.
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