They slice the upper eddies in threes
Skimming as high as your eye can see
Those triads of nature’s engineering
Unchallenged, aloft, domineering.
Their piercing, haunting, hunting cry
Clearing the sky above and below
Heralding an ancient otherness
Long before you see those black cockatoos.
Oooh, they make my heart start
To hear that evocative location cry
Like the call of the mammoth of the deep
Reaching the bowels of pre-history
Stirring the depths of the dark beyond
And in mea tribal sense of unbounded freedom.
Ross Glen Easter 2021