Classic Poem

for Christobal Columb 23rd


the white, black, grey ones of magpie, crow or galah,
the oil-pastel spectrum of lorikeet or budgerigar,
a kookaburra's henna and ochre brown.
I find them all by looking down,
though the discourse of birds is surely overhead
amongst the branches and wires and posts.
And amongst the birdsong, I hear it said
that I pursue this mania so one day I may boast
the colours of heaven on my lap,
the feather of an angel in my cap.