Disturbed at Daybreak

A flock of long-billed corellas
Calls on the wing a mournful song
At daybreak, to gather its throng.

These ragged arrow-headed birds –
Their oversized secateur beaks
Are snipping tools for fruits and seeds.

Their blue encircled, granite eyes
Are framed with reddish spectacles
Amidst a flutter of feathers.

As daybreak moves to noon, then night,
This ramshackle flock of cockies
Calls on the wing once more – “We’re gone!”