Parakeets, jade bright and lit
with watery sunrise lean swiftly
to their reflections
as they soar through dawn,
born seemingly from the tongue
like twirl of willows and a tangle
of dun branches that trail
the river and its way.
All night they have sat here-
the girl, the birds and the boy,
blanket wrapped and waiting,
sleep snuggled and cooled.
The blush of the world at bay
and its formal carnations lost
amongst the damp scent of weeds,
clambering and clustering the banks.
Then the rush of fish; salmon, leaping,
flying through the water to spawn,
to live and to die amid such brightness
and to be reborn.
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