They have a ball here,
their backwardsing
their forwardsing;
the rainbow lorikeets, the pink galah, the dove.

Along and up and down
the ridge line of this hill
like an airway
a real high-way upon which they fly;
the joyful chattering squawks and squits
of sheer intent,
to move
quickly to the next excitement:
a blossom, a floral, a pod
a nectar.

And then again to
dash about,
to go together
to make this urgent
to make it all such essential fun.

MChallis @ 2015

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