(Amytornis purnelli)

They live in spinifex
sharp as needles.
Slips of twitchable feather
avoid piercing
by miraculous instinct.

Piping shrilly,
higher than some can hear,
they pop up.
The Scottish word wee
is all I can think of.

Cats relish them,
but the spinifex,
sharp as cats’ claws,
gives them
almost a chance.

They lurk,
way below the parrots
who flaunt and flap.
Grant that such tiny brown
still finds islands of spike.

PS Cottier

 

PS Cottier likes birds, dogs, whisky, and the occasional gnome. Sometimes she even relishes poetry.

© 2019