Time was.

Time was.

The Poincianas drip

Red petals trailing

Down to the floor

Fat drops of paint

Rich dabs of lifeblood

Heavily pregnant trees

Tossed helplessly

Ranged against the wind

Colour coordinated

Delusions

Impressions of morning

Bleeding into the afternoon

Stolen promises

Of better days

Lost boys linger

In the shade

Sheathing sharp tongues

Swaggering males

Preening cocks

Spreading tail feathers

Green gussets on display

Privates on parade

None of the parrots

Say ‘pieces of eight’

But they are a bunch of pirates

Stealing the limelight

From the Sparrow Hawks

With shrill squawks

And panicked hazing.

The die is cast

Future-proofed and

Picture perfect

With little celebration

An ordinary day

A collaboration of

Coincidence

When change happens

Whether you ask it to

Or not.