The Rain Carrier

Black cockatoo rests on the branch,

Waiting for the right time to act.

It smells smoke, it’s time to go, 

to carry the rain, where they need it the most.

He goes north with mates to distinguish

what lies below.

The rain flickers, the fire crackles.

Enemies together from the past. 

When the fight is over, everything 

is black.

But the black cockatoos are  

nowhere to be seen.

The green is emerging,

below, below, below.