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“We’ll meet in the eucalypts down by the lake.
Discussion is needed - you have to partake! ”
Black clouds flew from the oval, park and golf club
to raucously weigh down trees out in the scrub.
“Juicy larvae and insects prove harder to find
all the spraying and logging - ground being mined
has taken our homes, our gathering sites.
Together, in numbers we’ll fly up for our rights.”
From once sacred ground now suburbs, they flew.
From gum-tree nesting hollows, so precious and few
hundreds gathered early, in loud morning debate -
the Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoo parrot’s fate.
Discussed at great length in the eucalypt trees
for young; less food, meant less ability to feed.
“Stop clearing, spraying - playing with our lives!
If we die, what hope have you got, to survive? ”
Frances Macaulay Forde
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