21 February 2014
# 21 - the mynah birds are talking
If we were richer, we could emigrate –
But where? The eagle’s spacious nest
is riven on itself; the bear’s estate
is busy scaring rainbows back out west.
The cattle? Their green pastures now are filled,
yet bare; the lambs see little sign of spring.
And all around the lake, each lair and field
is burning with the death-stare of a king.
Let’s not go there. Let’s take the doctor’s keys,
and sail away to somewhere Palanese;
We’ll tend with care at both ends of the trees –
comparing tips from beetles and from bees.
We’ll live the life we never dared before,
and listen to rare starlings on the shore.