[A poem inspired by this photograph in Suse's "Gallery 365"]
I am walking through the garden,
Barefoot tip-toeing over the lawn,
Through my labyrinth of hanging sheets, beach-towels,
And a couple of flapping poems.
Home from my holiday, here I am,
Home from the sand and sea,
And yet here is that same old Tiger Bird,
Still walking stalking me.
It’s a growling bird,
Its two paws move rhythmically,
Across the tiled courtyard and past the blue gum tree.
It enters my houseworked cage now,
And the gate shuts strong and tight,
“It’s just you and me now Tiger Bird,”
I tell it with evil delight.
“If you stalk me even now,
After saltwater houseless rest,
Then you shall stay with me forever,
And we shall never accomplish our quest.”
Centuries, centuries hence,
It will still be just Tiger Bird and me,
In our personal backyard,
Caged-in, roof-tiled, flightless reverie.