of the bedsheet, the psyche stuck
in its torpor. Muted wittering from the bush
is unidentifiable, perhaps wrens or nimble thornbills
or a shrieker grappling with its reluctance
to acknowledge the day.
Each laughing kookaburra lays raucous claim
to its territory; magpies carol the gully,
the essence of early eucalypts.
Screeching rainbow lorikeets squabble and flash
from bough to branch, a concourse to carouse
and cavil. Soon the sun will slant
through the pre-dawn glow.