The wood moth lies weightless now
her swollen body free of progeny
A brief life complete after days spent
storing eggs nearby
She never sees her tiny caterpillars
drifting on threads, blown by wind
and chance in new directions
Climbing the gum, they tunnel a way
to the juicy sap inside, disguise the nest
with a plug spun from dusky silk
Trick birds looking for an easy meal
Aware of these invasions the tree repairs
these itchy intrusions, sends pheromones
into the air signalling danger, as grubs
invade en masse, ring-barking the trunk
hold on as it crashes to the forest floor
*
Nothing is lost in the sclerophyll
Deep in the under-storey, everything
is ripe for exploitation. Unobserved
tiny creatures thrive in the half light
A beetle’s long antennae searches
the valley floor for fallen eucalypts
finds bark soft enough for her larvae
to burrow, digest the dying tree
prepare their next transformation
Litter bugs creep at ground level
Strong and slow, sturdy backs tunnel
musty leaves, funnel everything tossed
by a possum or passing glider
And so it goes as generations of bugs
prepare the earth for new growth
Send great gums soaring to the canopy.