for Nani

he winks from behind a gas mask
dog on his lap trembling
scuds whiz over Haifa

5 hours drive to Baghdad from here
500km wouldn't get me far past Albury
on the Hume – I've done it several times

this poem for him has no rhyme
or reason. It is for his junk, white undies
old postcards, Beatles White Album

we survive because of woodpeckers
mongooses, Palestinian sunbirds
and gossipy bulbul birds

remembering the baby kookaburra
with a broken blue wing
he saved on that Port Fairy road