An afterthought for National Poetry Day
by Isa O’Kane
At the dry end of summer
In the Waitakere skies
A drunken Kereru lazily flies.
It feeds on fruit overripe and fermented
Little does it know it will soon be the lamented.
It sees a window and blue the other side.
an imminent fate when the bird does collide
Its neck is broken, its feathers a mess
and for all that there is one bird less.