A snail crosses
my path slowly
slowly I wait
A snail crosses
my path slowly
slowly I wait
If toes could
speak would they
talk the walk?
Yellow butterflies
ganging up on
the blue sky
Crickets and geckos
shushing and tutting
after the storm
A feather glides in
to land no
longer winging it
Leaves blown
far from home
Groundlings abiding
Noisy miner’s
low-set nest
Downward snapping beak