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  • My father died this time last year so I want to share a poem I wrote about him, as I am sure he is a bird that I often see in the garden watching me.

    The currawong

    I know it’s you
    with that cool yellow eye
    and dry sense of humour
    making everyone crazy
    and small birds nervous
    so when you take to the sky
    I know that you are laughing

    free at last to go places
    where none of us would dare
    so that you can cause havoc
    to those that didn’t care
    and to others
    you offer
    that piercing yellow stare

    Photo by D. Gordon E. Robertson, Creative Commons license
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