Morning begins
birds cackcackeacking at ginger cat
cat yawns at sky, empty of flight
Blackbirds, beadyeyed, suspicious, hide
in lemonwood tree
Hiding in duvet, fearing the day, but
intoning the mantra of up two, three, four,
your feet on the floor, coffee in hand,
toothbrush in mouth, clothes on your back,
you are out the door
Today the sharpened instruments
are in other backs, the ceiling of glass
is not yet cracking, they're not your wings
flailing like the fledglings', barely
keeping you airborne
You're still the cat yawning,
but know to toss the birds some crumbs,
their wings becoming stronger,
their orange beaks longer and pointed,
their numbers growing
Last night a possum,
drawn by light,
pressed its nose
and claws
against my window
In the afternoon
a peacock flew
to the roof
and one-eyed us
through
the upper pane
Towards evening
the neighbour's cat
climbed the deck
and watched me slice
the evening's meat
I expect to hear
the mice tonight;
a frost's predicted
and a full moon
I'll have
to string
the garlic