Heronville

My favourite hunter,
My prehistoric alarm clock,
My clumsy flyer,
My fellow oak-sitter,

I know the colour
of your tongue
and how the world
turns flat again
when we are facing
each other

Once you were guiding me
through the wetlands in despair
it was you who brought me
home in the pouring rain,
you who showed me
the rocky quality of
one-leggedness,
you who taught me
to love this city,
this Heronville.