In the first few jetlagged days of being
back in Australia, I always notice the birds:
the bright cacophony of rainbow lorikeets
the liquid alien throatiness of magpies
the dusty, distant, intimate confession of a crow.
But this time there’s something else as well—
as if the country is inside a dream
somehow sheared off from the dreamer.
Like looking up one day in the backyard
and seeing an enormous airship drifting by.
Then cracking open another beer.
4 May 2016