The Three Endangered Species

Cold air rushes as air opens the window,

As the numbat begins to pounce,

It hides in the green, green grass.

The victim is as gullible as bait.

The sunshine breathes on my skin

As the Northern Quoll lands on my windowsill.

It talks to me, wanting help.

I turn around, and it vanishes, leaving only a feather.

I leap into the glimmering water,

Seeing the Great Desert Skink, I swim away in fret.

Its visit to the ocean are more dire.

For me, it is life or death.