Nothing is so eggy as Surf Coast spring, all scrambly wattle
yellow, daisy white, freesia cream The odd blue spike
of iris barely rating Banksia candles breaking here and there
an air display, a show afizz with flight
Spinebill hornets’ mission Grevillea Bract Attack!
Blue wrens are mice on speed with tails up smart
and Look! Spitfires in the casuarina spiral lovemaking
in formation
All feather flit turn split out
Silver eyes come in a rush, dash, flash skit scoot
But one stray kamikaze flies for the shine of the glass,
loving its reflect Narcissus on the wing drops soft
on stone, no thud and not yet dead Feathers fluff in fear
Heart and beak in rhythm take in air like.. like.. … a hungry
goldfish? No. Two pincy needles? (No not that),
One eye shut but slitty, ever watchful, (Chanticleery
or was it Pertelote)?
Shhhh! Raven glossy black all eye and stealthy radar beak
Skim-scans from high with wing-tips flicked in the Devil’s cloak,
while under weeping she oak shaken, shivered away,
a still, small puffball beak clamped shut, no chup-chup chirp, no turn
Moment of hush in the wild Spring sprung