Birds, Sanctuary: Rarangi 3
We sit in a nest of soft sun,
where you’ve placed
heart-shaped stones, paua, driftwood.
Trees percussion the breeze while
korimako practise dinging,
tui experiment with
squeaks and tweets,
The great green hill
like a curvaceous body asleep,
a hidden aviary, busy,
and the sea breathes, exhaling a
shush to the noisy birds,
sloppily lapping at the feet of gulls.
I think of childhood albums:
wildlife cards from jelly packs,
sought after, glued, the empty squares
like creatures now extinct.