by Helen McDonald

In searing heat I wake
to squawking bad-boy cockatoos
vying with clicking cicadas

I’m deafened in the hazy morn
Brush turkeys bustle
building mounding nests

I’m sweeping leaves, a clearing scent,
skimming seeds from the pool
Sweaty bodies plunge, emerge, gasping

Day’s end, gently rocking in a hammock
sprawled below groaning gums
smacking mosquitos, brushing off flies

Livened by gusts of southerly breeze
barbeques fire up, the clink of glasses
the tink tink of bobbing boats