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Feathered Memory
 
Our daddy was a timber man;
our house... right by the mill.
The crews took out old clapped out trucks
and cut down trees at will.

The local wood was cypress pine
and popular in construction.
White-ants couldn't get a hold
and wreak their foul destruction.

When trees were felled
which held a nest,
Dad brought them home,
he thought it best.
We spoon-fed every one with grain,
mashed and soaked,
then fed them again.

Galahs, corellas, cockatoos, rosellas
budgies, lorikeets, noisy fellas.
Some with feathers,
some with none,
awkward and ugly
with rude screeching tone.

From this we learned to gently care
for nature's creatures,
some now rare.
They grew
and learned their seed to crack
then graduated to aviaries
out the back.

Characters, each one of them...
talking, acrobatics, playing,
preening,dancing,
gracefully swaying.
I remember them well
and remember the caring,
remember responsibility sharing.

Thanks Dad for the experience
...and the memory.
A chat to my brother
brought it all back to me.

By cherryk

© 2017 cherryk (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - AG (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - AG (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - AG (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - AG (challenge has been closed)


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