First over the swimming pool,
then the arts centre, town and river
on wings that make such minor strokes.
Tourists name them falcon, or
eagle, yet they are at best
Filed under poetry
Tagged as Another Lost Shark, Black Stump Blues, Black Stump Blues part IX - Kite Hawk, Graham Nunn, Kite Hawk by Graham Nunn, new poem, new poetry, new writing, photograph, photography, poem, poems about Blackall, poetry, predatory birds, writing
Those beautiful bastards will eat my chickens given half the chance. Did you take the photos – I love it.
That’s it, I’m moving nest.
Don’t turn your beak up… you know this Old Shark’s nest is warm and friendly.
Such minor strokes, each stanza one wing, a real picture poem.
Hey Paul and Gabrielle,
Glad you guys enjoyed this one. They are a magnificent creature… I heard a story that one tried to take a pet chihuahua, while I was out west.
Fantastic – the black stump series could be a mini collection on their own I reckon
Yeah it’s shaping up that way Ashley… still a few to go as well.
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